Still No Sign Of Spring - The Walking Dead (Part I)
by littlexblue
Summary: Daryl still blames himself for Beth's death and will probably never stop blaming himself. It haunts him every day. After discovering Jasmine out on a run for the group one day and bringing her injured to their make-shift camp, his whole world is flipped upside down. Suddenly he is yet again given someone he holds dear to protect... but will it be enough?
1. Chapter 1 - With Interest

**July (Mid-Summer)**

Jasmine still remembered when Daryl had found her, her ankle caught in barbed wire. Luckily for her, she had managed to cut through the wire with one of her Ronins and escape from the hungry, rotting snappers. Being so small, she thought she could simply squeeze through the fence. After attempting to slither through the gap, her belt had gotten caught in the moment; Jasmine tugged herself free, only to find herself stumbling back into the dangling hoops of barbed wire.

Freeing herself was rather easy, but climbing the ancient oak beside the burning convenience store was not as simple. Jasmine's had been stinging and watering uncontrollably, and she had been dangerously close to the licking flames. Weakened from the thick smoke, she hadn't noticed one of the biters had been grabbing for her, and within the heat of the moment, the wire was snagged and she was being tugged down. That was the moment that the arrow flew, slicing into the skull of the Walker like a hot knife through butter - and within what felt like seconds, she was no longer clinging to the branches on the verge of spiraling into unconsciousness.

She was practically clinging to Daryl, dazed and confused as he carried her on his back to safety. Once back at the campsite, she had been cleaned up, her clothes cleaned, and given something to eat and drink. Rick had asked her only three questions - she wasn't sure why exactly, but Jasmine figured that it was simple precaution. Everyone had seemed welcoming and warm - all except for Daryl. He, in fact, seemed a bit standoffish, like some sort of trapped canine, his hackles always raised. Jasmine had paid no mind to it. Her weapons were returned to her, and if there was a hostile move made, she would be able to defend herself... albeit clumsily; she wasn't too good with her father's Ronins.

Daryl gradually began talking, granted at times it was more mumbling than actual conversation. He was quiet, that was for sure. Jasmine herself was a bit awkward, but eventually she ended up working up the nerve to thank him. He had looked her up and down with unsure blue eyes, and softly dipped his head, not even cracking a smile. Jasmine took this vagueness as shyness rather than hostility. She couldn't get past the sound of his voice - it was almost haunting: shiver-worthy. Of course, she attempted to warm up to the silent man, but there was always quite a distance between knowing him and actually knowing Daryl. He was a puzzling character.

Unfortunately, Jasmine began to dislike Daryl due to his occasional rude comments. It became sort of a tense, heated rivalry between them: Jasmine would attempt to go out on a run with him, or she would ask to help him with skinning and deboning animals he had caught... and he'd refuse, telling her to stay behind. Eventually he became so rude at times that the two would get in each other's faces, sizing each other up. It became too much for Rick one evening when Jasmine actually struck Daryl, and in his rage, Daryl raised his own hand to her in return. Rick and Glenn broke up the fight before Daryl could lay his hands on her. She was satisfied when he actually told him to "give it a fucking rest".

Daryl, of course, spat at Rick's shoe and refused to reconcile, storming off and disappearing into the woods. Jasmine herself had to blow off some steam, completely bewildered that he had had the nerve to constantly bully someone, especially when it came to their ability to care of themselves these days. She could take care of herself just fine... she spent nights contemplating on leaving, but any time she would show signs of self-isolation, Carol would come bother her.

Jasmine decided she'd prove to the group that she wasn't a liability. Every evening after dinner, Jasmine would venture off from the camp and would search for some sort of thick, sturdy log. She would take her frustration out on it, granted without much finesse. It made her even angrier when she'd make mistakes over and over again...

After a few weeks of trying to better her skills (and getting nowhere), she was eventually interrupted by a rather frustrated Daryl - who to her surprise, took the time to teach her how to properly hold her weapons, and throw them with enough vigor to successfully meet their mark without any further trouble. It turned out to be that by the end of the evening, Daryl reluctantly told her that she had done well. From that moment on, Daryl would continue to appear at random to watch her practice and then intervene (with relentless scolding and bitching) when necessary. As time went on, Jasmine noticed how he was beginning to ease up and relax around her, and eventually they could talk openly without conflict.

Evidently, the pair of black sheep were more similar than Rick's group had thought. With time, Jasmine blended in with the patchwork tapestry, like she had been part of their family from the very beginning. She felt at home, for once; helping Carol and Maggie wash clothes, going on runs with Glenn and Sasha.. she even kicked around with Michonne and Carl, sometimes even with Rick. Jasmine even helped them find a new household to settle into - a mountain-face ski resort. They cleaned up quickly and after a few weeks of false alarms and adjusting, the group finally relaxed. The view was what made it all worthwhile. It was beautiful, and Jasmine hoped that it would last forever.. There was one thing missing though, unfortunately. Daryl kept his distance, only coming around to nag her like the kind of teacher he was.. it upset Jasmine incredibly so. She still didn't feel as if she had his approval.

Finally, after nearly two months, Daryl had woken her up early one morning.

"Come on, we're goin' out," he grunted. He obnoxiously - and insensitively - tossed her clothes (and even some of her own rather heavy keepsakes) onto her head to urge her out of bed. She would cuss in frustration and roll over until he would wrap her in her blanket and practically drag her from her cot, her head hitting the wood floor. Soon enough though, Jasmine's body adjusted to the early hours. Sometimes Jasmine would even beat him to it. Their runs brought them closer, their hunting trips helping Jasmine learn that she could do things that she never even thought she could accomplish.

Jasmine's body became fit and strong. She slimmed down and became more agile (although granted there was definitely room for improvement). Michonne taught her exercises and tactics to help her keep running when she became out of breath.. After some time, she noticed that Daryl didn't need to constantly be at her side, babying her and bitching. In fact, during a late evening meal, Jasmine had heard from across the open foyer, "that girl can kick some ass". She had been oddly giddy the rest of the evening, finally understanding why he hadn't been nagging her. He was beginning to respect her.

* * *

 **September (Early Fall)**

Jasmine honestly wanted to kick Daryl right now, right in the fucking teeth. All she could do was stare at the back of his vest, tracing the wings as if in order to calm herself so she could focus on the moment. She remembered what Michonne had taught her for once, and breathed deeply. With a burst of adrenaline, Jasmine pushed off with her right foot as hard as she could, focusing on her pounding heart and letting her legs to the work - embracing the burn in her calves and thighs, and in her lungs. Jasmine began to gain on Daryl, and was soon up beside him, who glanced at her in almost - well, she wasn't sure what - but she knew it wasn't bad.

She swore that she saw him grin.

Once in the clear, Daryl and Jasmine slowed and almost seemed to collapse in the grassy plateau at the base of the hill that lead up to the resort. The two were gasping for air, a mess of sweat and hammering hearts. Relieved that they had made it back, Jasmine fell back in the wiry dead grass beneath her, letting out a soft cuss. An exhausted laugh bubbled at Daryl's lips. "Well," he began, pausing to breathe. "That was a clusterfuck." He rose to his feet, and she could see his legs trembling from exertion. Daryl offered Jasmine a large hand and hoisted her to her feet with ease, uttering a grunt of effort.

Daryl wasn't the tallest, but he was quite built. Strong and sturdy, in her opinion, with broad shoulders and muscular arms from setting his crossbow and other constant strenuous work. Jasmine had tried once to redraw his crossbow, to which she walked away with sore hands and a wrenched wrist. Daryl was, as usual, always right there beside her as soon as she needed help and managed to keep her from damaging her hand further. Despite his scolding, Jasmine was taught how to draw the crossbow properly, although she knew she would never have to use it - and never could, with her "chicken arms".

Jasmine stood straight, adjusting her sheathes and her belt, making sure everything was properly attached. She snorted in amusement. "A clusterfuck indeed," she mumbled, dusting off her knees with a free hand. With the other, the brunette lass lifted her backpack further up onto her shoulder, readjusting to relieve her sore muscles.

"We get chased out by walkers before we can find anything good... go figure," Daryl remarked, scuffing at the ground.

"Hey, I think the canned stuff is quite a catch. This is the most we've found in the ruins in a while." Jasmine blew a strand of wavy hair from her eyes.

The two ascended the hill. "Yeah, well, we can't survive on cans alone. People will go hungry quick," Daryl replied, his cold grey eyes glaring ahead. Jasmine knew the posture, and the look in his eyes too well.. she fell silent.

Carol was the first to greet them at the door with a warm smile on her face and a hug. She was just taller than Jasmine, and just smaller than Daryl. "Did you two find anything worth-while?" she asked. Daryl slipped past the two. "Just a few cans of beans and corn.. everything else was rotten," he muttered, shrugging. "Jaz thought it was worth takin'."

Jasmine shot him a glance and then smiled halfheartedly at Carol. "Well, it'll have to do," the motherly woman replied, attempting to lighten the mood. Lately Daryl seemed to curdle the mood with his sourness.

Jasmine was unsure why he was acting in such a manner, but didn't want to pry. She was at a standpoint where she didn't exactly know her boundaries. He welcomed her at times, but other times he'd brush her off or tell her to get lost. Why was he so fucking complicated? Daryl disappeared off to his room and Jasmine exchanged glances with Carol.

"I don't quite understand Daryl lately," Carol piped up, as if she had read her mind. Taking on the silence of her tutor, she gave her a look of understanding. The two crossed the room, passing Glenn and Maggie who were settled around the in-ground fireplace, murmuring softly to each other as lovers do.

"He seems to be returning to his old ways. What with Beth and all.." Carol began, but she trailed off, looking at the ground and swallowing gently. Jasmine tilted her head softly and attempted to meet her eyes. "Carol, it isn't your fault," she chided. "It isn't anybody's fault.."

Carol turned her dilute green gaze up to meet Jasmine's gaze. "Try telling that to Daryl..." Carol replied. Her gaze dropped again. She was a solemn woman, slender and beautiful, with a tangle of silver-grey short hair upon her crown to accent her stormy grey-green gaze. It reminded Jasmine of the sea.

The older woman attempted to lighten the mood once again. "Anyway, come on. Outta give me those cans so we can start supper tonight." Carol reached out, while almost simultaneously, Jasmine reached for her bag. She rummaged through and found her four large cans of chickpeas and Lima beans, graciously handing them over to the older woman. Next, she found the two cans of creamed corn, and also handed her a box of crackers she had managed to grab just before the Walkers had swarmed the building.

"With interest," Jasmine added, the two exchanging small smiles and giggles.

* * *

[ **Author's Note** ]: **Hello! If you're reading this, you have successfully finished chapter one to Still No Sign Of Spring. I first began writing this way back in November, and after deep consideration, I posted it to Wattpad in February/March. The first few chapters are a bit iffy, if I might say. They were essentially trial error for me, but the mistakes I made encouraged me to do my best and strive to continue writing. Feel free to leave critique as you please, and comment about what you like or don't like about this story so far.** **So as mentioned in the plot summary, this takes place after the attack on Alexandria. Unfortunately there weren't enough survivors to take on the herd of Roamers, and given that Rick's team wasn't large enough to fight, they fled. A month or two after, while the group is scavenging, Daryl finds Jasmine and rescues her... Albeit reluctantly. He doesn't take well to her, and thus is rather hostile and aggressive.**

 **Even though part one is completed, it is always being tweaked and edited. Toward chapter five you will find that the quality in writing becomes far better. I hope you enjoy the story!**


	2. Chapter 2 - Drowning

**Late October (Fall)**

Jasmine untied the snare and quietly stuffed the partially frozen hare into the satchel Daryl had lent her. It was a frosty morning, the golden sun lazily drizzling through the canopy, shafts of light through the scattered ancient oaks and beech trees. The ankle-high dry grass was coated with a layer of silver from the late autumn frost. Everything seemed to be freezing over at that very minute. Jasmine balled her fists a few times to warm up their stiff joints and keep the blood flowing as she continued on to the next trap, following the long winding trail. It was so quiet that morning, not even the birds called, a croaking raven being the only exception.

She knew that Daryl wasn't far, most likely somewhere off in the brush a few yards away. Small clouds of transparent silver drifted from her rosy lips as she crossed through the undergrowth as silent as a deer. Goosebumps rose upon the surface of her skin, and a shudder ran through her. Jasmine, oddly enough, had not run into a walker quite yet. She scanned her surroundings, every sense on point, her ears pricked for any possible warning sign that there was danger. Things were still, as still as death itself.

It didn't take her long to run into a Walker, the sound of the gurgles and snarls that escaped its lips sending a cold drop of fear down her spine. Daryl's hushed tone replayed within her mind like a record, causing her hammering heart to settle. " _They ain't alive like you. You have the upperhand... see? You're smarter.. use it_." Jasmine slipped the satchel off her shoulder and shot her right hand to her left hip, unsheathing her Ronin and pivoting on her left foot to embed the pick end into the zombie's temple. The creature collapsed to the ground.

With a flick of her wrist, the sloppy mess of brain matter splattered to the ground. Jasmine quickly walked away, attempting to fight the cloud of weightlessness from the heat of the moment that loomed over her brain. Her hands trembled as she gripped the tomahawk in her right hand so hard that her knuckles were white. The moment of sheer anxiety passed, leaving her feeling like she was lighter than air.

Jasmine approached the next snare, following the path as it weaved around one of the familiar landmarks that she used in order to recognize where she was - a blackberry bush. The gnarled, twisting branches of thorns looked more like barbwire now, and the leaves were beginning to die, as they did every year. Jasmine was just peering over at the destination she required, when there was a sharp, single-note that cut through the air. Danger. The young woman instantly knelt, being careful not to allow the blackberry bushes' claws to snatch her messy up-style of thick brunette hair. Once again, her heart was hammering.

Becoming as still as humanly possible, she held her breath. The undergrowth crackled and she gripped the handle of her tomahawk tightly once more. Slowly, she rose and raised her weapon, approaching the moving bushes as carefully as she could. Jasmine made sure her footfalls were light. Pushing her way through the bushes, she came to a stop and paused... only to be startled by a gentle hand on her shoulder. She turned around rather quickly, preparing for a fight. Jasmine elbowed whoever it was in the chest and within an instant turned and raised the Ronin, only to let out a trembling breath in relief.

Daryl stood there, slightly crouched, his left hand extended, the right holding his crossbow. "Jesus girl," he scoffed.

Jasmine gave him another shove. " _Asshole_.." she muttered.

The girl sheathed her weapon and fell into step with the archer. Jasmine and Daryl quietly chatted as they approached the next snare, finding that it had been broken and bloodied - most likely from a hungry walker. Daryl let out a scoff and a scowl marred his features. "Fuckers took our catch," he growled, his jaw set.

Jasmine rose with a heavy sigh and a frown, fiddling with the end of the rope with her fingers. "Put it down, it ain't worth it," Daryl said. Jasmine did as she was told, and then turned away. "Well, what now?" inquired Jasmine, her green eyes peering over at the archer. Daryl was studying the brush for tracks. "I thought you said that it _wasn't worth the trouble_.." Jasmine frowned and placed a hand on her hip. It was chilly, despite her thick red scarf and her jacket. She was lucky to have her turtleneck, her cargo pants, her thick socks and heavy boots.

"Yeah, well... maybe we could find something.." he mumbled, nonchalantly handing her his crossbow. Jasmine let out another heavy sigh and turned, eyes on the undergrowth, searching for any sign of possible danger. She held the heavy weapon, feeling like a small girl with her father's gun. Honestly, she believed it when Glenn had asked if she were in high school. She looked young for thirty-two. With pale green eyes, she looked up at the horizon as the sun began to melt away and everything dimmed. Daryl walked up beside her and Jasmine handed over his precious weapon. "We should check the ones by the dam," Daryl suggested.

It was a game of follow the leader today, she supposed. "Did you find anything in the last traps?" asked Jasmine, shooting him a glance. Daryl watched where he was stepping for a moment, and then turned his head up. Looking directly ahead, he narrowed one eye against the light.

"Nothin' but broken rope, like yours," he replied bluntly. With a flutter of her dark lashes, she fell silent. Jasmine felt guilty for asking. She knew how much he wanted to provide for the group, how much he took upon himself and bore on his shoulders.

Soon enough, they reached the dam. Jasmine eyed the churning water nervously as Daryl helped her up onto the cement. It was a sort of "bridge" they used over the water: a large protective layer of concrete set over the filtration system. Swallowing hard, her anxious gaze settled upon Daryl's vest, studying the wings imprinted on the leather, trailing along the sleeves of the taut leather jacket beneath. He always wore dark colors... Jasmine's head began to swim and she became dizzy. She could feel the pigment leave her pale skin. Water was one thing she absolutely couldn't handle - she always had inescapable nightmares of plunging into the ice-cold fathoms and sinking... sinking.. sinking... water filling her lungs..

The breath caught in her throat, and she stopped as her eyes unfortunately fell upon the muddy, crashing wall of water. "Daryl," she uttered rather sharply. Had she even spoken? Had any sound escaped out of her mouth?

The man in front of her stopped and turned, his hand casually resting upon the strap of his crossbow. "What?" he uttered, brows knit in a rather bothered expression. Damnit, the expression on his face looked so goddamn stupid. All Jasmine could do was stare at him - her mouth felt glued shut. Her green eyes begged him to understand. After a moment or two of the dull roaring of the water below their feet, Daryl gave her a once-over and then stepped forward, offering a hand. "C'mon," he urged. The tension that was building began to ease and release its grasp on her.

Jasmine took his hand and he side-stepped. Her heart nearly blew out of her chest as he moved her up in front of her, her eyes never leaving his foot as it was skimming the edge of the platform. She knew he wouldn't fall, but in the moment, going anywhere near the edge was enough to give her a heart attack. Her stomach churned.

She took a trembling breath. Jasmine could feel him just inches away from her, the sensation of his body heat next to her giving her goosebumps. Daryl never let go of her hand. "Come on.." he chided softly. His voice was actually soothing for once. It wasn't harsh or bitchy. Jasmine didn't feel as if he were trying to taunt her or scold her.. She trembled softly. "Straight ahead. Look..." There was a long pause as she felt his soft breath against the back of her head. She could feel him finally lay his large hand upon the soft curve of her left side. After a moment of silence, he spoke again. " _I'm here._ " Internal warmth enveloped her and her spirits trembled as she heard him speak those words.. she had never felt so safe.

* * *

[ **Author's Note:** ] **Just a quick note in here; this chapter was only useful in the sense that it shows that Daryl makes Jasmine brave. For a while she has had an irrational fear of water due to an incident where she was nearly drowned by walkers at the bottom of a lake. She was lucky to escape and survive. Thank you for reading, and enjoy!**


	3. Chapter 3 - Shale

After a long day of scavenging, all three groups returned with something of use. Rick met with his group, Glenn's group, and of course Jasmine and Daryl. They settled around the fireplace as Sasha and Maggie set up the required amount of timber. Daryl and Rick had spent days cutting up what they could find for firewood, to a point where both had to take a day off of work. Jasmine, despite her amusement when it came to Daryl's struggles, couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Carol had fussed over his blistered hands and made sure he stayed inside, taking it easy. It was funny watching both of them complain and insist that they were fine, and then moments later, seeing them cringe in agony from how sore their muscles were.

Everyone settled down on the benches and chairs set around the fire. Daryl hovered in the back behind Carol's spot, and Carl held Judith in his arms, settled on the floor at their father's feet. Glenn and Maggie were wrapped in a blanket together, while Sasha and Michonne sat on either sides of Rick. All looked to the stoic leader in silence as they waited for him to speak. "Now that we're at a higher altitude... we might get snow this year. It's getting colder.. supplies and food are running low. We need to be going out on more runs," he began. Jasmine quietly trailed her index finger along the surface of the carpet beneath her.

Rick leaned forward, resting his elbows upon his knees. "Don't be afraid to do your part." Rick paused and glanced from face to face. "From now on, any chance you get to go out and find food, or even help Carol or Maggie out - preparing winter clothes, rationing out blankets, storing food away - you do it. Everyone needs to pull their own weight..." Jasmine's eyes slipped from Rick's face and flooded over the others in the group huddled around the fire. Rick continued to speak. "I've been talking to Daryl, and he's told me that the snares haven't been catching much lately.. unfortunately we might have to look at the option of pushing our borders past the woods and the town."

Sasha frowned. "So, we're breaking our own rules now?" inquired the woman. Jasmine looked in her direction with furrowed brows, but didn't say anything. "What if someone happens to see one of us and follows us back here? I thought you said it wasn't safe to go past the ruins of Alexandria..." Jasmine turned her eyes back to Rick as Michonne added, "Rick, we can't take that risk.. it's too dangerous. What if we lose what we now ha-"

"But now that it's becoming more difficult for us to find supplies, we need to re-approach the risks from a new angle," Glenn piped up. "I know that Maggie and I have no trouble getting in and out quickly."

Rick appeared to study everyone in one quick glance. "I understand why you think this is a bad idea... but what choice do we have?" he inquired. Silence ensued. "For now, Daryl has agreed to set traps further east until we know whether it's a good idea or not."

"And what about west? South? North?" inquired Carol. Her voice was always such an elegant thing to hear. "Do we know what's over in those parts?"

Jasmine frowned and glanced toward Maggie as she spoke. "Maybe we need to explore our land more than we have before, so we know what's out there?" the slender girl said. "I mean, there's the dam a few miles away from camp that we cross to get to the fields. Those lead down to the area around the ruins.."

Carl added, "And there's a river behind us - I've seen it from my window." Murmurs broke out. Rick and the others continued the conversation.. Jasmine watched everyone who spoke, one at a time, none interrupting each other. Everyone's voice was heard. Crossing her arms, Jasmine leaned her back up against the cold stone lining of the fireplace. The discussion didn't seem to end. Honestly, she thought that Maggie was right. Exploring would be a good option before plunging head-first into the unknown.. Rick was definitely onto something here. Focusing on the leader as he spoke to Carol about sewing supplies, she happened to shoot Daryl a quick glance.

Her heart jumped and she felt as if all color had been drained from her cheeks. His icy grey gaze was settled upon her, as if she were the only one in the room. The fire light was reflected within his irises, flickering and dancing. It felt like decades before he finally looked away. Daryl had quickly averted his eyes immediately after her emerald depths had settled upon his shale set. He shifted his weight and then turning his eyes down onto his bow. His chest rose simultaneously as he took a quick breath, before he blinked slowly, turning his attention back to the group discussion.

Drowning out the conversation that was currently taking place, Jasmine watched every little bit of movement he made; she watched as his lips parted every so slightly, how his unpredictable blue-grey eyes turned up to fall upon the next speaker. Jasmine noticed how he looked so focused, calculating and studying every bit of the moment. Jasmine's eyes dropped and she ended up looking at the carpet at Rick's feet, just beside baby Judith as she played with her father's shoelaces.

Quietly, she sat up straight, her spine pressed against the stone. The group was relaxed, simply watching the flames. Carol broke the silence. "I think what you're suggesting is our best option, but let's slowly introduce it... we can let groups go out a few weeks at a time to scout out for places that could possibly have supplies." Jasmine's gaze flickered over to look at Daryl for some sign of approval, but there was now nothing but empty air where he had once stood. Her chest tightened and she clenched her teeth. He always disappeared in crucial moments of decision, and it always worried Carol. She was still healing from a broken rib, and couldn't leave camp, so have the time Jasmine was the one she sent after him.

Carol didn't have to ask her this time. Jasmine rose and gracefully slipped into the darkness of the surrounding empty foyer. She grabbed her scarf and a rifle, and crossed the hall to the doors. They opened with a clatter and closed behind her with a snap.

* * *

[ **Author's Note:** ] **TENSION TENSION TENSION!¡! This chapter signifies the growing tension between both Jasmine and Daryl, as well as introduces Rick (in a completely different sort of tension). Daryl is always keeping track of where Jasmine is; it's sort of a comfort factor, even for Jasmine. It kinda makes him feel that if something were to go wrong, he would know where she was, and vice versa.**

 **Although Jas hasn't _exactly_ gained Daryl's complete trust, they've become fairly close since they found the lodge. They've basically claimed each other as partners in crime at this point, doing almost everything together. Their bond strengthens every day.**

 **Not only does this signify that he seems to favor her along side of Carol and Rick, but it also signifies the growing admiration and curiosity he has about her.**

 **Alright, onto the next chapter! Thank you for reading, and enjoy~**


	4. Chapter 4 - Made Of Stone

The instant she breathed in the frigid night air, Jasmine sighed softly. There was so much empty space, as if it were endless, and thus she was thoroughly satisfied. The lack of claustrophobia allowed her to loosen up. Jasmine loved group sit-downs, but sometimes she needed a breather - she preferred the outdoors. She hoisted the rifle's strap up over her shoulder, and knelt, observing the disturbances that Daryl's boots had left. The distant _flk_ of a match being lit hit the air, which caused her to curl her lip. The soft glow of a flame caught her attention, lingering by the treeline on the slope facing in her direction, before being snuffed out.

Jasmine quietly walked down the hill, careful as to where she put her feet. Her scarf swayed gracefully in the still night air, and her eyes scanned the surrounding nature scenery that was bathed in silver light from the moon. "I thought you didn't have any more cigarettes," she said, sounding rather similar to Carol. She couldn't help but take on her motherly mannerisms at times. "Carol will shove those up your ass if she catches you, y'know.." Daryl's frame straightened from where it had been leaning against the trunk of one of firs, a cloud of smoke lazily drifting from his lips. "Well, I'm not worried," Daryl replied, his gravely voice giving her some kind of odd comfort.

With all this talk of possibly losing some of the group, Jasmine was beginning to feel her worst fears slowly approaching like the tension of a summer night before a storm. The fresh air, kicking about with Daryl for the first time in a while - the little things gave her a bit more courage. The frozen ground was hard beneath her feet. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, Jasmine shook her head as she was passed the cigarette. "Not tonight," she said softly. "Rick will end my existence."

Daryl still pressed, raising his brows in a smug look. She wanted to slap that expression right off his face. Wrinkling her nose, she gave in and took the cigarette from him, bringing it to her lips. As she inhaled, the familiar intoxicating burn seared her lungs. Once she knew her lungs were filled, Jasmine allowed the smoke to exit her lips, quickly caught by the wind and disappearing into the inky shadows. Jasmine then handed it back to Daryl, who took a quick drag and then allowed the cigarette to sit lazily in his mouth. "Are you taking the crow's nest tonight?" she inquired, gesturing with a gentle swoop of her head toward the resort. At the very top was the attic-like storage compartment, a single window and its seat, always armed with a sniper-rifle for quick kills.

Jasmine was glad that Sasha had found the silencers, given that the loud crack of a gun would echo through the hills like a dinner bell for the Walkers. The cold air began to nip at her skin. That's right, she hadn't brought her coat. Daryl leaned back against the tree and slid down, sitting down abruptly with an inaudible thump. Jasmine decided to follow in suit, and sat down on the cold, hard ground, looking up at the sky with Daryl. Silence filled the air. "I think that settin' traps further out could be a bad decision," Daryl suddenly admitted.

Jasmine blinked and turned her green eyes in his direction. "Really?"

"Hm.."

"I thought that you and Rick decided that together?"

"Wasn't what we agreed on before. I told him it might be a bad idea... Rick didn't listen. Guess he changed his mind."

Jasmine frowned and turned her eyes up toward the blank inky sky. " _Hm_.."

"I don't know... I just have a bad feelin'," Daryl finished, shifting and fiddling with the end of one of his arrows.

It was clear out. There were thin wisps of cloud here and there, but the stars shown just as bright as the moon. It was similar to the evening that Daryl had brought her to the original camp. Exhausted from carrying Jasmine all the way on his back, Daryl had set her down safely and fell back onto the log next to her, letting out a groan. Carol had tended to her, fussing over the archer's cuts and bruises not long after. Jasmine had been disoriented and confused, but allowed them to poke and prod and inspect her. She had needed stitches, and Daryl had been there next to her, gripping her arm to keep her still and distract her, covering her mouth to muffle her cries. She had squirmed, struggling to keep her voice down as the needle punctured her skin. Jasmine had bit down on Daryl's finger a few times, but he hadn't even flinched.

The green-eyed girl silently sat there as she reminisced, brows furrowed and her eyes upon the rolling hills. The thick swath of treetops in the distance were nothing but one big shadow, occasionally illuminated by the moon. The soothing rhythmic sound of Daryl's breathing brought her back to reality. Her eyes found themselves wandering back over to his shadowed face. "What was Alexandria like?" Jasmine inquired curiously.

In reaction, he turned his head to her to give her once-over, then back down to his arrow. "Safe, happy.. as close to perfect as things get," he answered, nodding softly. "Until the raid. It was flipped upside down, walkers got in... people were gettin' bit left, right, and center."

His eyes turned up to look at the dark canvas above and Jasmine nodded, understanding. Everybody in the group knew all too well how quickly things could go south when a walker was introduced within a community. Since day one, Jasmine couldn't remove the image of a little boy tearing into his mother like a savage, hungry animal. The blood, the cries - these thoughts all bounced off the walls of her mind like a whistle traveling through a cavern. Daryl finished his cigarette and used the tip of his arrow to create a divot in the frozen earth. He snuffed the smoldering ember out and then scuffed dirt over his stubbed smoke.

Jasmine decided to stand, swinging the rifle over her shoulder and then looking off toward the clearing at the base of the hill. "You know, you should tell Rick how you feel.." she told Daryl. She turned her head to him with a frown upon her face. He simply glanced up at her, a fairly sharp glare in his eyes. "You shouldn't have to keep your opinion to yourself..."

Daryl turned his gaze down and shook his head slowly. Finally, he said, "My opinion don't mean nothin'. Rick has made decisions just fine without me around.." The archer looked up at her, his jaw set.

Jasmine's frustration caused her to grip the strap of her gun a bit tighter. He was always so passive and vague. He always just brushed everything off, and he hardly ever spoke about how he felt. Jasmine wasn't sure whether he _felt anything_. "Don't talk like that. I hate how you always just slink off into the shadows like some sort of wounded animal, acting as if nothing matters," she began. She pivoted and turned, pacing slowly away as she spoke, gesturing with her hands. "Everyone has noticed how you've withdrawn yourself. You're becoming a stranger and we all _hate_ it!" She turned on her heels to face him, still looking up at her with his unrelenting gaze.

Jasmine could see it in his eyes- he was beginning to become displeased with her rambling. "Everyone wants you here, everybody cares about you Daryl. You can go on thinking you don't matter as much as you'd like, but I've heard what people say about you. Carol is practically up every night until you come back to the lodge, and she _tells_ me things Daryl..." Jasmine looked down at him, swinging her outstretched hand in a gesture toward the resort as she spoke about Carol. Jasmine began to feel her frustration turning into anger. Her blood was beginning to boil and heart was pounding, to a point where it caused her chest to ache. Daryl simply looked up at her, calculating.. her emotions were beginning to run wild. "You act as if everything is fine up in your head, but you can't bear to think about what happened. It kills you every day," she continued. "Ever since what happened to _Beth_ , you've been isolating yourself and its scaring Carol. You-"

Daryl finally stood to his feet and strode forward. He was up in her face in an instant. "What else do you think you know about me, huh?" he yelled. "You have only been with us for maybe two months and you think you have everyone figured out?"

Jasmine clenched her teeth. "I've have taken the time to listen to others and be a part of this group. I'm not the one leaving for the whole day, all alone, without warning!" Daryl opened his mouth to speak, but was cut short as she continued.

"How about whenever you don't have to be out there? Or when you take your fucking bike?" Jasmine snapped. "I don't know where you go, but we somehow always end up one man short."

" _You_ -"

"You aren't made of _stone_ , Daryl!" Jasmine came closer, as if challenging him to continue to attempt to prove her wrong. Bracing her shoulders, she kept her head up in order to make herself look more brave than she really was.

"You need to learn t' stop sticking your nose where it don't belong!" Daryl snarled, stepping forward and nudging against her, causing her to stumble back a few steps. Jasmine stood her ground as he attempted to make himself look more threatening. His voice dropped, his frigid grey-blue eyes cutting into her. "I don't need no _prissy bitch_ like you tellin' me what to do, and no one else here does either!"

" _Hey_!" Stirring due to the commotion, Rick and Carol both appeared up on the front porch of the resort. The leader had his left hand placed on his gun as he jogged over to the two. Jasmine curled her lip and swung, but Rick pushed his way between the two. Daryl had prepared himself for impact, ready for a fight, but was brought to a halt by Rick's strong hand.

"I don't know what's goin' on here, but this needs to stop," he stressed, his eyes flickering nervously from one to the other. "Your voices could draw attention to this place and we could end up in a bad situation." Carol finally found her way over, and scuttled up beside Daryl.

As soon as she reached over to touch his forearm, the archer angrily pulled away and stormed away from the others, up to the resort.

* * *

[ **Author's Note** :] **Damn, that was intense. Their first argument in a long while. Poor Jasmine, she just doesn't understand. The threat of hitting her is strong here, yet he doesn't get a chance to show that he has the balls to do it. It's actually quite funny. Do you think he would have struck Jasmine? Honestly, in my opinion, I don't think I could ever see that happening. It would hurt both Jasmine and Daryl (even if they aren't completely on good terms).**

 **Thank you for reading! Enjoy~**


	5. Chapter 5 - Beth

Jasmine, Rick and Carol were all left outside in the freezing cold, confused and shocked. "I don't understand, I thought you two were finally getting along," Carol fretted. Her arms were folded across her chest to keep herself warm against the cold. Rick shook his head and took a deep breath, looking at the ground. He rested one hand on his hip, the other still placed on the handle of his gun.

"What did you say to upset him?" he asked.

Jasmine felt her stomach twist. "I.." She looked to Carol.

It took a moment before Carol actually knew the reason why Jasmine was looking to her. "You .. _Beth_...?" she croaked. Rick quickly turned his attention to Jasmine, clearly bewildered.

"He _told_ you?" Rick asked.

"No, Rick, I.. I asked Carol who she was," Jasmine piped up, not wanting her to get in trouble. He had become so defensive because he had mentioned Beth to him, and had lost his temper in the heat of the moment. Jasmine felt awful - she should have been more careful with what she had said.

"Well, either way, someone has to apologize.." Rick murmured, then turned away, heading back up the slope. Jasmine swallowed nervously, feeling her heart quicken as she fretted over the thought of seeing Daryl. She had been so close to possibly having him open up to her, and she had spoiled it. What if when she attempted to speak to him, he blew up at her? What if he ignored her? Pretended that she didn't exist?

"Why don't you head inside and rest?" Carol chided gently. She brushed some hair from her face and rested her palm on her cheek. "I'm sure he'll have calmed down by the morning.." Jasmine turned on her heels as Carol, Rick and her all began to approach the resort again.

"He frustrates me.. He isolates himself - always just pretends like he's so tough.. and, and.. " Jasmine tried to explain, but she lost her train of thought. Her eyes settled upon the ground as they walked. Carol chuckled softly. "Daryl is... _Daryl_. He's a tough nut to crack.." The younger woman let out a gentle huff of frustration. "Don't worry. He'll get over it.." she added, giving her a gentle rub on the back. "He'll come around."

The two made it to the porch and in through the heavy doors, before they latched them behind themselves and glided into the dimly-lit foyer. Everyone was upstairs most likely, all but Michonne, who tended the last bit of the glowing fire. Just before they began to approach the large staircase, Michonne piped up. "He looked _pretty_ angry... best give him his space tonight, Carol." The two paused and looked upon the raven femme, before they exchanged glances. "Thank you, I'll keep that in mind Michonne," Carol said. "Goodnight."

Her head bobbed and Jasmine managed to say her own words of farewell for the evening, before the two continued to the staircase. They spoke in soft murmurs and then hugged each other, before they parted ways. Jasmine followed down the long hallway. It wasn't until now that she realized how drained she was. Shuffling into her room, she pulled off her scarf and her boots, leaving them by the door. The girl proceeded to change into something more comfortable for sleeping. Jasmine stopped just before she went for the door, when she looked at herself in the mirror. She frowned. Her face was fragile in appearance, her green eyes exhausted, and her hair a mess. It was just a fact, the apocalypse gave you more to worry about than just your looks.

Jasmine couldn't remember the last time she had worn makeup. Unpinning her hair from its french bun, she hoisted her dark wavy locks up into a sloppy mess of an up-do. It was out of the way and easy to switch back. Jasmine never really wore her hair down. She had contemplated on perhaps cutting it, but Carol had complained about how much of a waste it would be. The motherly woman had always adored her long hair, and told her it was a shame that she couldn't wear it down. Daryl had always told her it might get in the way, so she had kept it up. Perhaps Carol would trim it for her some time.

Exiting her room to the grand bathroom, Jasmine silently padded across the hardwood to the door. Pushing it open, she stepped inside and shut the door quietly behind herself. Jasmine rinsed out her mouth and cleaned her teeth up the best she could, before she drank some water, and then relieved herself one last time for the evening. One thing she definitely missed was toothpaste...

It was a bit chilly in the dark room, given that she was only wearing a large t-shirt and a pair of shorts. After one last look in the mirror, Jasmine slipped from the confines of the bathroom and down toward the banister that led to the stairs. She gave it one last look, seeing that Michonne was on her way up to the attic for the night to keep an eye out for any possible danger with Sasha. The two would switch once and a while every few hours. Both needed rest, after all.

A soft smile laced her lips as she remembered her first night on watch duty with Carol. They had laughed, they had reminisced about their past lives... Jasmine leaned forward onto the banister, enjoying the moon streaming in through the skylight and the side windows. It was dark, so the shafts of water light illuminated only a little bit now. She took a deep breath in - it smelled of musty old wood, and baked beans from that evening's supper. Maggie had never liked baked beans, she had admitted to her once. It made her feel ill, but now that she had hardly eaten anything different lately, she had learned to deal with it. The thought made Jasmine chuckle ever so softly. Even during times like this, the group always managed to lighten the mood.

With a stretch, she decided it was time to retire for the night. Jasmine turned on her heels and shambled down to her bedroom. Pausing in the doorway, she peered over, a few doors down, noticing that Daryl's candle was lit. He was probably awake... Jasmine felt a wave of guilt wash over her and looked away. The girl pushed her door open and then shut it softly behind her. Soon, her candle was blown out and she rolled over onto her side beneath her comforter. Jasmine stared at the wall for a few moments, pulling her blankets up to her chin... she felt her stomach ache from the stress that took over. It was all one swirling mess within her mind as she dealt with the anxiety of having to face him the next morning - if he even wanted to take her out. Soon enough though, exhaustion took over, and she sunk into darkness.

* * *

The few hours that passed felt only like a few moments. Her green eyes fluttered open, only to be met with pitch darkness. It was raining outside, judging by the soft hush coming from her window. Shivering, Jasmine pulled her blankets up further. The girl rolled over and stretched, her entire body straightening out like a board. Jasmine sighed, her eyes shutting again. Slowly, she began to drift back into her dreams...

Suddenly the iron claws of fear latched onto her, gnawing at the pit of her stomach. Jasmine was utterly confused. Something was wrong - something was terribly wrong. Something was just screaming at her to get up and move. Jasmine pulled back the covers, ignoring the nipping cold on her bare skin, and stumbled to her door. Unlatching it, she stepped out into the hallway, and stopped, allowing her gaze to adjust to the darkness. The moon was gone, and all she could hear was the rushing rain outside the lodge. Jasmine searched frantically, feeling her heart hammering through her body like an echo bouncing off the walls of an empty room.

Daryl's bedroom door was open an inch. Something was pulling her to the door, and instead of ignoring it - instead of going back to bed, she instantly glided to the door. She didn't burst in though.. no, she rested her hand onto the cold doorknob. " _Daryl_.." she breathed softly, hoping he was awake. The only answer she received was the continuous sound of the rain against the roof. Swallowing hard, she gripped the brass knob tighter, and pushed the door open. His bed was a bit of a mess, his crossbow sitting on the window seat in front of the open pane. His vest was strewn next to it, oddly placed on the leather surface. Settled to the dresser on the right were two sheathed knives, one smaller that the other. A combat knife and a buck knife.

Jasmine stepped inside the room and looked around, until she finally laid eyes upon Daryl's collapsed shape. He lay crumpled in the corner, asleep. Had he woken up and stumbled out of bed? Nobody had ever mentioned sleepwalking within the group.. Crossing the room to his bedside table, with trembling hands, she used the matches in his drawer to light the candle. The room was suddenly washed in a warm orange glow. He lay with his legs out in front of him, his head rolled to one side and his face pale from beneath his tangled hair. Daryl's skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and he held in his clasped hand, an arrow.

Blood was everywhere. It ran down his arm, and pooled on the leg of his jeans.

"Daryl, oh... oh my god!" Jasmine cried. She was at his side in moments. His eyes fluttered open and he managed to lift his head. His breathing was ragged and labored. Daryl appeared to swallow and his lips parted to say something. His voice was a gravelly hush, a few tears escaping his eyes.

"Beth..." He reached toward her, but his body had little to no strength. The archer ended up collapsing against her. Jasmine supported him, despite how she trembled. She felt how he shivered and shuttered.

" .. I'm .. _sorry_.."

* * *

[ **Author's Note:** ] **Super short, I know. This is a real turning point for the two of them. As to why Jasmine went to Daryl's room, I never really figured that out? I think it was simply instinct.**

 **As to how Daryl got a fever ?**

 **This chapter is both good and bad. It contributes to the plot, but also simply kind of disappears in amidst the slew of events to happen in the future. Its only ever mentioned once, but otherwise is ignored. Also, it's kind of abrupt and sudden, as well as irrational. It's meant to make the group more aware of his struggles, yet he simply clutches the arrow in anger rather than in an attempt of self-harm or suicide.**

 **Either that, or to punish himself (which kind of makes sense since he blames himself so much?)**

 **Thank you for reading, and enjoy the next few chapters!**


	6. Chapter 6 - Sting

The wound on Daryl's hand had been self-inflicted. He had clasped the head of the arrow so hard that it had sliced into his skin, and he had lost a fair bit of blood. It didn't help that the archer had also been running a fever, which had caused him to become delusional. Jasmine had called for help after he had passed out, having taken the arrow from his hand and used her own to cover the wound on his palm. Glenn was the first one in, using his t-shirt to replace her bloodied hands. Rick entered the room next, along with Carol, who Maggie pulled away from the room as she wailed.

Jasmine knew that if Carol stayed in the room, she would have had a meltdown. The men lifted Daryl to the spare room down the hall, onto a cot. They had stitched up the wound and dressed it, and then finally cleaned the blood up off his arm. In the meantime, Jasmine was taken downstairs by Carol and Maggie, who comforted Jasmine as she attempted to calm down. Maggie helped wipe Daryl's blood off her slender fingers while they calmed her down with soft, hushed tones. Carol stroked her hair, her thin body trembling against her own.

"Breathe, Jasmine, honey.. its going to be okay.." Carol replied, her own eyes damp and full of fear. The older woman placed one hand on either sides of her face, looking into her eyes. "Its okay..."

* * *

The brunette woke up in Carol's bedroom, the pale morning light pouring in through the window, the popcorn ceiling practically glowing. Carol's room smelled sweet from the dried flowers hung on the wall, and it was always neat and tidy. Jasmine simply listened to the silence, feeling empty and exhausted. The wind was gusting outside, the room cold from the draft.

Finally, after what felt like such a long time, she slowly peeled herself off the bed. Jasmine didn't notice that her hair had come out of its ponytail, not until she ran a hand through it subconsciously. Too drained to even care, she shuffled from Carol's bedroom to the hall and out to the bathroom, where she was abruptly stopped. As she had reached for the door, she had saw the faint crimson stains on her fingers. Jasmine felt ill suddenly, but swallowed hard, ignoring the way her stomach churned. She pushed the door open and decided it was time to get ready for the day.

After a quick rinse down with the homemade soap that Maggie had made, she relaxed, her skin smelling more of lye now rather than dirt and sweat. She took the time to actually comb her hair, and then tossed on the large t-shirt to cover up her body while she crossed over to her room. Jasmine was dressed not long after, wearing a soft brown shirt and her grey camo-print cargo pants. She brought her clothes from a few days prior downstairs and went into the back room where the laundry basket was. She would get around to washing them later. For now, she needed to see who was awake and what she could help with.

Padding to the staircase, she sat down and pulled on her boots, lacing them up. She then crossed the open foyer to the coat wrack, and pulled on her jacket. Jasmine made sure that her ronins were fastened safely to their sheathes, and then pushed her way outside. She found Rick standing on the porch, hands on his hips, talking to Glenn and Michonne. "I think its best if you take it easy today," he began. "What with the commotion from last night, I think you deserve it." Jasmine let out a soft breath. Well, there went her plans.

"Did we wake Judith up last night?" she asked. Rick was already facing her, the usual worn and worried expression taking on his features. She vaguely remembered the screaming.

"Did you sleep alright?" Rick inquired, ignoring her question.

The small young woman frowned. "I slept as well as I could.." Jasmine gently pulled the sleeves of her coat over her hands.

Rick sighed and ran a hand through his combed hair. "That makes two of us. Everyone was on edge last night..." he commented.

"We had to take shifts," Glenn added. "Just to make sure that he wouldn't wake up and try to hurt himself further."

" _If_ he had been intentionally trying to take his own life," Rick finished.

Jasmine's palms had become clammy and her brows were furrowed. She was so nervous that she felt as if she no longer had blood in her limbs. Looking away from the others, her eyes washed over the hillside. Her throat locked up.. Rick came up next to her.

"What made you go in there?"

Jasmine turned her attention up to the taller man. "Go in where? Into his room?"

Rick nodded. "It was late, no one was awake. What made you feel like you had to go in?" he asked again.

Jasmine nervously shrugged and turned her head, feeling overwhelmed in the moment. It was hard for her to think about.

"I just.. saw the door was open slightly. It confused me, because before I went to bed, the door was shut and his light was on.." Jasmine explained while shaking her head.

Her eyes fluttered up to Rick's scruffy face. "It was alarming, and so.. I went to the door, called for him. When I didn't get an answer, I.." Her throat locked up again. Jasmine couldn't say anything more.

Michonne reached forward and gently touched her shoulder.

"Its okay, we get the idea..." murmured the raven beauty.

"Let's get inside... its getting cold," Glenn piped up, his hands shoved into his pockets as he shivered.

Jasmine and the rest all agreed, and shuffled inside. Once inside of the foyer, Glenn and Michonne went for the kitchen, while Rick and Jasmine removed their jackets. Just before she could follow the other two, Rick placed a hand on her shoulder and stopped her in her tracks.

"Would you like to go see him?" he asked.

The question shocked Jasmine at first. She had honestly had the idea of visiting him, but she hadn't exactly brought it out of the confines of the back of her mind. For a few moments, she felt a bit unsure as to what she would do. If he were awake, would he say anything to her? If he weren't, would she say anything to him? Jasmine swallowed hard, and nervously looked off toward the windows to her right. "I.." Rick blinked calmly as he waited patiently for her reply. "Daryl's fever went down in the night, so he should be able to make proper decisions. I can come with you in case he tries anything stupid.." _He's awake?_ Jasmine thought, astonished. How long had Daryl been awake? Was he still angry? Would he lash out?

Jasmine nodded, deciding that she had nothing to lose.

Carol was settled just outside of the door, quietly reading the book she had been working on for weeks. Her eyes came up and she rose to her feet, instantly shutting the book and rushing to hug Jasmine. Hesitant, she hugged back, before she was released. Jasmine quietly looked from Rick to Carol.

"We'll be right at the end of the hall if you need us," Rick chided softly, smiling.

Jasmine thanked both of them and then turned to the door. Her hand rested on the doorknob just as it had the night before. The events of the evening before washed over her as she turned the handle. How could she face him? Was he laying in bed, sick? Was he weak? Knocking softly, she then pushed the door open carefully. There was a moment of silence, and then.. "Come in!" Her heart shuddered and she pushed open the door. Daryl stood by the window, reloading the arrows into his crossbow. He had most likely been cleaning it, given the rag on the window seat. He looked unscathed, despite the bandages wrapped around his palm and thumb.

His eyes were on her in an instant and his body went rigid. There was a moment of silence. Soon his gaze wandered over her, giving her a once-over, before he looked down at the crossbow and resumed his task. "Need somethin'?" inquired the archer. Jasmine was speechless. It was as if it had been a bad dream..

Everyone had been so worried about him, and this is how he acted? Clenching her teeth, she stormed into the room, straight up to him. Jasmine took the crossbow from him and as hard as she could, she slapped him across the face. Daryl stood there, his head turned and slightly hung. His tangled bangs hung in his eyes, and the vast majority of his face.

"Get off your damn high-horse, Daryl," she hissed. Her throat locked up and tears stung her eyes.

She showed him her hands. " _Look_. This is your _blood_.. Rick, Glenn and I were in your room at buttfuck-o'clock while you were bleeding out, and you ask me if I need something? As if it _never happened?_ " Jasmine stood there, lips parted slightly, staring at him in complete disbelief.

Daryl, whom had remained as still as stone, now bowed his head, his jaw clearly clenching in an effort to keep himself composed. He shook.. and a few choked sobs escaped him. Jasmine was the one who was now completely frozen to the spot. She had never seen him like this before. " _Daryl_ ," she breathed softly. She was in dismay as she watched tears run down her cheeks. Suddenly, his legs gave way. Jasmine was there in an instant, supporting him. His weight became too much and the two sank to the floor. Daryl rested his head against her chest, sobbing softly as Jasmine held him.

* * *

[ **Author's Note** :] **(cries in Spanish) This is the emotional turning point where their bond becomes more solid. With Daryl's breakdown at the end, it really shows how he trusts her now. On the other hand, it feels kind of abrupt (as mentioned earlier) that he suddenly is crying in front of her.**

 **Only once the reader understands how much they've been through together do they understand that it is appropriate for Daryl's character.**

 **Thank you for reading, I hope you're enjoying the story so far!**


	7. Chapter 7 - Enrapture

**Late November (Early Winter)**

It was cold. Jasmine's hair cascaded over her shoulders in a tangled mess, her slender body covered by the longest t-shirt she had ever found. The small cottage probably belonged to some large old man who enjoyed hunting almost as much as Daryl did. She wiggled her toes and rubbed her arms, shivering. The light that tumbled in through the window was frigid silver. The sun was gone, and the snow fell gently onto the ground. Of course, on the day the duo were going to leave and head back to the lodge with their trophies, it snowed. They needed to get back quickly. The radius of their borders had been stretched only a bit, given that Rick's troop had decided to take things slow, and approach the outer woods with caution.

The cold seemed to slow down the shambling corpses that infested the woods, making it easier for them to kill or make a quick getaway. Peering down at Daryl's bunk, she found it empty. He hadn't woken her up as early as he said he was going to, which Jasmine realized with a grumpy huff. She climbed down the ladder and onto the hardwood floor, a large yawn escaping her mouth. Bringing a hand to cover her parted jaws, she shuffled out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, where she got herself some water.

It didn't take her long to wake herself up and find her way to the bathroom, where she got dressed and pinned her hair up, washing her face with some of the small portion of soap on the sink. Jasmine had finished drying her face when the door opened with a gentle creak. The sound of heavy boots on the floor caused Jasmine to freeze. She paused, waiting for a moment... before Daryl's whistle cut through the air, signalling that it was only him. Jasmine loosened her grip on the rag she used to dry her face and stuffed it into the cupboard.

Exiting the bathroom, her eyes settled upon the archer. "Mornin'," he said softly, giving her a nod. "Almost ready t' go?"

"Yeah, just let me get my ronin and the rabbits from the back shed," she replied. "Have you got the deer all loaded up onto the bike?"

Daryl replied with a simple nod. Parting ways, she disappeared into the bedroom. There, she packed her bag and pulled on her boots. After quickly lacing them up, Jasmine slipped on her coat and scarf, and then hoisted the bag over her shoulder. The two left the hunting cabin quickly and quietly without another word. Jasmine helped him bring the bike up to the road, and waited for him to start it. Her eyes traveled up to the depressing grey sky above as snowflakes fluttered to the ground. They were peppering her face and eyelashes, and hair. Her breath was visible in the frigid air, translucent silver wisps escaping her mouth.

The bike kick-started with a ferocious rumble, like that of a thundering beast. Jasmine was startled by the loud noise, and thus quickly turned her attention to the bike. Daryl was leaning back in the seat, tugging on his gloves as he prepared himself for the ride. The corner of his mouth curled up in a smirk, most likely due to her little jolt of surprise. Climbing onto the bike behind him, she nestled her body up against his back and wrapped her arms around his waist. The bike gave one more growl, and within moments, they were flying down the road. The first time she had ever rode with Daryl had been absolutely terrifying for her. Her hair actually came undone a few times, which frustrated her, but now she took the extra precaution to pack an extra scrunchy if needed.

The young woman rested her forehead against Daryl's strong back and shut her eyes, listening to the bitter wind scream in her ears. The snow flew by at a million miles per hour, and every walker they passed would turn it's head, their snarls drowned out by the loud sound of the bike and the violent concussive wind around them. It didn't take long before she gained courage and brought her head up, looking around as the world zipped by in a simple blur. Everything played it's own part in smudged muddy paint on canvas; ever-changing and never remaining stationary. Jasmine felt a good half an hour or so pass before she began seeing familiar landmarks. The clutter of bare trees gave way to the sudden crumbled walls and burnt houses... the remains of Alexandria were eerie and haunting. They followed the road straight through the lost town. Jasmine felt a twinge of sadness as she could tell that Daryl was uncomfortable. His strong back was rigid against her torso. He was most likely eager to pass through the ruins as quick as he could. In fact, with a flick of his wrist, the bike sped up and they winded a corner, hastily making for the other end of the road.

The duo soon made it into the clear, and were out in the open again. The air was ripped from her lungs as she opened her mouth to catch a few snowflakes. It was more like catching tiny bees as she felt the flakes sting the back of her throat. She let out a soft cough and Daryl glanced sideways at her for a moment with a smirk on his face, before he returned his attention to the open tarmac.

The two drove for about another hour or two, before they found the road at the base of the hill with the overturned city transit bus. The motorcycle slowed and then with a rumble of defeat, came to a stop. It was time to walk from there on.

The two partners made it back to the lodge, ascending the hill. Daryl let out a sharp whistle, alerting the lookout that they had arrived. The archer took the bike around the back to cover it up and bring the deer in through the side doors. He would most likely go see Carol, which would leave Jasmine on her own for the rest of the afternoon. Rick greeted her at the door with a warm smile, and baby Judith wobbling at his feet. Astonished at how fast the young girl was learning, she beamed and swooped down. Jasmine hoisted Judith up, who reacted with a squeal of excitement. The young woman tickled the small child, who giggled and squealed again in delight, squirming in her arms.

The entire group asked her what was out there, how far they had gone, and if they had found anything good. As she was bombarded with questions, Daryl spoke to Carol in the back, whom she embraced upon greeting. He seemed a bit shocked, but hugged her in return. The archer then began to take out the hunks of meat they had prepared. Carol beamed and rolled up her sleeves, scuttling to the counter to find the plastic wrap. The meat needed to be frozen in order to keep it from spoiling. Daryl watched her quietly, before he turned and leaned against the island in the middle of the kitchen, watching the group as they cluttered around Jasmine. He shot a taunting smirk in her direction, to which she replied with a quick arch of her eyebrow.

The group all sat down by the fireplace, which was crackling low, but still creating warmth. "Well, it was pretty fucking cold. It rained a few times, but we managed to set up as many snares as we could. We had plenty of good luck," she explained, looking from member to member. Judith gently pulled on her shirt, and a swiped at a single wisp of hair that dangled from her messy updo. "Daryl and I came up with the idea of setting up traps for the Walkers too. We'd tie fishing line from the base of a bush or a small shrub, and then attach it to some cans we had strung up in the tree., The walkers were distracted from the catch we had on the snare, so then nothing could spoil it."

"That's actually a really good idea," Maggie remarked. She then looked over her shoulder at Daryl, who observed quietly. "Why didn't we think of it sooner?"

Jasmine peered at Daryl, whose eyes never left her. "Because he wouldn't listen to me before," replied the young woman, who arched her eyebrow again.

The archer shook his head and smirked. "Yeah, well, shut up," he mused. The group chuckled together, the sound sweet and bubbly. Jasmine had ached for that sound, just as everyone else had. Laughter was pure happiness.

"Well, it looks to me that this change could be the start of something beautiful," Rick announced. A proud grin laced his lips, and his eyes twinkled. Jasmine had never really seen the leader so gay before. At least, not in a long time. The group were all chattering and eager to spit new ideas out without much thought... eventually, they began to simply joke around.

"Hey Dad, why don't we have a party?" Carl piped up.

The group laughed once again. "What? I mean it! Glenn found the alcohol and all that stuff, right? And we have all that food, so why don't we celebrate?"

"He does have a point," chuckled Michonne. "Maybe we should have a night to let go?"

Rick's gaze washed over the group. "That does sound inviting," he agreed, his smile lighting up the room.

"All opposed, speak now or forever hold your peace.." Maggie disclosed. The room was silent as the group exchanged grins of excitement. Tonight would be a night to remember. Rick's group was going to do something unimaginable.

They were going to celebrate.

* * *

Carol finished brushing her hair. "I honestly don't think I've seen everybody smile like that in a long time," she admitted as she admired her wavy locks. Jasmine laughed softly along with the older woman. After a moment, she sighed. "So you honestly want it cut?" she asked. Jasmine shrugged. "Maybe, someday, I don't know.." she replied, shrugging. She then paused and tilted back her head, looking up at Carol. "Maybe like your's."

Laughing softly at Jasmine's remark, Carol smiled. "Well, long or short, your hair is beautiful - you are beautiful." With a soft kiss on the top of her head, Carol set the brush down and began to style her hair. "My mother taught me this when I was a teenager," Carol explained as she fiddled with her dark locks. Jasmine's smile widened.

"Really?" she inquired. "Are you sure she wasn't a hairdresser?"

Carol chuckled. "I'm very sure."

After she had finished the upstyle french bun, she tucked some of the last baby's breath and cedar leaves she had into the bun. With her dainty features, Jasmine looked like some sort of forest fae. "Thank you Carol.." she said softly, feeling a wave of emotion wash over her.

Rising, she hugged Carol tightly, and the two stayed like that for a while before they released each other. Everyone was dressed in their best and washed up for the evening of celebration. Maggie and Sasha had managed to grab a few dresses for everyone to surprise the group. Michonne naturally declined the offer, but was happy to dress little Judith up. It was odd, as Carol and her dressed themselves like their lives were normal again. Of course they didn't have any nice shoes, so they went barefoot.

Glenn had almost seen Maggie, and Carol had acted as if it were her wedding day, shooing the curious young man out of the room. They had found such a beautiful flowing blouse and a new pair of jeans for Carol. She had been so overwhelmed that she had cried. Jasmine felt a bit corny, dressing up. It felt strange, and once again she thought that she was currently pulling herself into some odd device. She had gotten so used to her jeans and such that her bare legs under leggings felt almost exposed. Carol helped her button the long white blouse up at the back, the cool air on the small gap in the back of the shirt tickling her skin.

After they were all ready, the girls hugged each other and headed downstairs. Michonne was at the bottom of the stairs. As soon as she saw the girls, she clapped and hooted. Jasmine made it to the bottom of the stairs, shifting and adjusting her shirt uncomfortably. Her eyes swept around. The floor had been cleared, the chairs pushed out a bit further for foot room. The fire roared and the bottles were set out on the island. Candles glowed all around and Jasmine felt warm and cozy. She felt at home. The curtains were drawn over the windows to keep from bringing any attention to the lodge, and Sasha was keeping watch upstairs in the crow's nest.

"I'm sure you girls would have worn dresses if we had some razors around," snickered Michonne. "You all look like you're ready for a ball."

Maggie, in reply, rose and pulled Jasmine up to her feet. She began to protest, but was cut off when Maggie spun her in a circle. Judith clapped her hands and giggled, wiggling along too. Once comfortable, she got into the rhythm. Eventually all the girls were laughing and cheering the two on as they danced, granted with little finesse. The door was the only thing that interrupted them, opening with a howl of wind. Glenn, Rick and to everyone's surprise, Abraham, came through the door.

"Looks like I'm just in time for some liquor," chortled the beefy man. Jasmine blinked from where she stood next to Maggie, unsure of the newcomer. Rick and Glenn were certainly relaxed around him. The gentlemen looked upon the three girls in the room, flowers in their hair; practically glowing. "Holy.." Abraham astonished, and whistled. Glenn beamed when his eyes fell upon his lover, rushing to Maggie and lifting her into a kiss. "You look.. you... _wow_!" There was a chorus of laughter at Glenn's awkward attempt at a compliment. He was clearly at a loss for words.

The men joined the group, settled around the fire. Their faces were pinched from the cold, but they didn't look too shabby either. They scattered soon, enjoying glasses of wine or rum, even some of the whiskey left over that hadn't been snatched for medical purposes. Abraham was introduced to the young lady, whose hand clasped her's firmly. Grateful for his chipper attitude and his clever jokes, she hung around with him for a while. It wasn't long before she began to feel a bit anxious. Jasmine couldn't help but keep glancing at the main entrance. Daryl hadn't come inside with Rick and Glenn. She hoped that he hadn't decided to ditch that evening's events. Jasmine had assumed that he would come back with the group, but it seemed that she would be disappointed. Breaking from the chatting group, Jasmine padded in bare feet up to the island table, where she set to making herself useful. Carol soon followed up beside her, taking a break from socializing for a moment.

It was quiet as the two helped chop up some of the meat. After a few moments, Carol glanced in her direction. "You keep looking at the door," she commented softly.

Jasmine felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment. She paused for a moment. "He wasn't with them," she murmured in reply, rinsing off her hands. After drying them off, she turned and stepped up to the island, leaning against it and gazing upward. One of the large windows let in a few shafts of silver light. Jasmine had become so used to being with him and only him that upon returning, when flooded with questions, she had instantly felt comfort upon meeting his eyes from across the room. That's what she needed at the moment.

Carol soon pursued Jasmine and gave her a reassuring rub on the back. "You have to understand that he strays..."

Jasmine let out a soft sigh. "I guess so." Carol smiled softly and then returned to the main kitchen, carrying the heavy stew pot to the fire. It looked like it would be rabbit, beans and wild carrot stew.. Abraham was quick to his feet to help her, taking the large pot from her so she wouldn't have to strain herself. No one wanted Carol to be stuck inside because her injury was damaged again.

"Jasmine, honey, why don't you go set up some candles down the hall?" Carol called. The young woman obliged and took to the cupboards. She found the items required and then padded out of the kitchen, disappearing into the dark hall.

That's when the door opened. Daryl stepped inside, the wind gusting as he stood in the corridor, semi-drenched, his crossbow in hand. He seemed almost confused, glancing around the room at the new, rather dressy clothes. Someone had decided it would be interesting to string a tie around Abraham and Glenn's neck, and the women were dressed up like some sort of odd bunch of hippies. It must have looked like quite an unusual party to poor Daryl.

"You're late," scoffed Rick, obviously just teasing.

Daryl looked around at the candles. "Well, I guess I am."

"We were starting to wonder where you wandered off to," Carol added.

Swinging his crossbow off his shoulder, he dropped his bag of unknown objects, eyes laid upon Carol. The corner of his mouth curled up in a faint crooked smile. "Is this some kind of dress-up game?" he asked.

"That's what I was thinkin'!" mentioned Abraham. Daryl turned his head at the sound of the towering man's voice. In the moment, Daryl beamed, and the two strode toward each other, and greeted each other with a firm hug and a slap on the back. Rick approached and the three men spoke to each other about the recent events. Once the archer had pulled away from their trio, he turned over to Carol. The two had a soft conversation.

"Where'd Jaz get to?" he asked, sounding a bit concerned. Daryl's eyes flitting over the kitchen, the cupboards, the staircase.

"Went to the back probably," Carol replied vaguely. She looked away from the archer, but couldn't resist the urge, and smirked. Daryl, knowing she was hiding something, eyed her suspiciously. Without another word, Daryl was suddenly distracted from his search by Glenn, whom handed him a generous amount of whiskey.

Maggie rose from her seat and picked up Judith, whom played on the floor. "I think I'd best take the babe and the big man up to bed before we begin our fun," she suggested. Carl tried to protest, but Jasmine piped up as she was returning from her duties in the back. "Come on kid, up to bed, before Maggie drags you up by your ears," she called. The girl crossed her arms and leaned against the island table. "Maybe next time though, okay?"

There was a sudden startling sound as Daryl choked on his drink at the sight of her. Abraham gave him a slap on the back, causing him to lurch forward. The group burst into a guffaw. Daryl wiped his mouth and shot everyone a bitter glare. After a while though, he loosened up.

"Very funny," he rasped, coughing again.

Jasmine snickered along as well, albeit softly, given that he was probably embarrassed. She didn't want him to feel as if she was taunting him. Daryl shot another fleeting look in her direction, smirking halfheartedly and shaking his head. Jasmine crossed the short distance to the open floor, stepping down beside Carol so that she was closer to both of them. The two simpered shyly at each other.

"You two look like you're gonna get _hitched_ or somethin'!" Abraham remarked.

Carol wrapped an arm around Jasmine's waist suddenly, and they dramatically held each other close like two enthralled lovers. Laughter rang out again. Invited over to the circle, the two women joined everyone around the fireplace where more drinks were passed out. The group became merry and laughed often, reminiscing of memories. Carl had once brought a frog back to the prison once, and according to Maggie, it had scared her half to death. Her father, Hershel, had calmed her down and shown her that there was nothing to fear about the little amphibian... whereas when Daryl had come to see what the commotion was about, he had suggested that they "eat the damn thing". Carl had refused, of course, and kept it for a few days. Unfortunately the creature died, and Daryl was (reluctantly) given his treat of succulent frog legs.

Jasmine shot him a look of both appreciation and disgust. Daryl was smiling softly, enjoying the story.

"It tasted real good, if that helps," he remarked. He looked down into his mug, swirling his whiskey around, and then took another sip. Jasmine took a swig of her own, enjoying how it burned as it went down. It reminded her that they were all still human, that they were all alive, and that they could all still feel something.

The evening drew on and soon the troop of survivors were ruddy-cheeked and a bit intoxicated.. although some more than others. Glenn laughed so hard, he fell off his chair and onto the floor. Everyone burst into another chorus of cackling. Even Daryl was laughing.

"C'mon, I thought you Asians were all about balance 'n shit like that!" he mused.

Jasmine's head was buzzing. She looked over at Daryl as he sneered over at Glenn, who was on the floor, trying to catch his breath. Maggie helped him up. Daryl could make cruel comments sometimes, but at the moment, everything was hunky-dorey, so there were no issues. The archer chuckled and then took a final swallow of his mug. He slammed it on the table, the mug then filled with rum. Next was Carol and Rick, Abraham and Maggie taking it slow. Someone had to stay sober enough to control the others... more or less.

Maggie suddenly piped up, sighing as she came down from her chortle. " _Okay_ , okay! So, what's one thing you miss since, you know, all this happened?" she asked the rest of the troop. The group all pondered for a bit. Rick was the first to pipe up.

"I'd say family get-togethers. Like barbecues."

" _Chocolate_ ," commented Carol.

Glenn snorted. "Pizza."

The entire group let out a hum of agreement. Jasmine dreamily thought of a hot slice after a long day of work: the smell of the delicious creation filling her small apartment. Feeding her dog pepperoni. She missed her dog.

"I definitely miss gettin' laid," Abraham chuckled, rising and adding to the fire.

The group reacted with raised eyebrows and caterwauls of enthusiasm, all agreeing... all except Daryl. Jasmine's eyes had wandered to him, and once again, his eyes were upon her. All joy was wiped from his face. As usual, his eyes dropped once caught and he looked at the table, deep in thought. She couldn't help but feel her ears begin to turn pink. Swallowing nervously, Jasmine took a sip of her rum, and then allowed her own eyes to fall to the table.

"Well, Maggie and Glenn don' have that problem," remarked Daryl. She was brought back into reality by the laughter and the scoffing coming from the two lovers. Her dark lashes fluttered as she watched him stand up. "I'm gonna go take a piss." When he walked, he stepped in sort of an awkward, shamble-like fashion. Jasmine found that he looked sort of like a walker, and for a split second, the thought made her stomach churn in disagreement. Carol gave her a nudge so as to get her attention, and she turned to the older woman with a smile.

The doors shut with a click and the group chattered among themselves. It wasn't until Carol suddenly stilled that Jasmine returned her attention to the older woman. She looked as if she were listening for something.. Confused, Jasmine pricked her own ears, and at first she couldn't hear anything out of the ordinary.

"I think Judith is awake," Carol said.

The group abruptly stopped and listened carefully, and sure enough, the wailing of the young toddler caused Rick to rise. He crossed the floor in a moment with too much finesse for a drunk man, and ascended the stairs. Rick soon returned with a fussing Judith in his arms. The babe was squirming and crying, red in the cheeks and uncomfortable. Rick attempted to hush her, but she wouldn't stop crying. Carol stood up and hovered beside the scruffy man, offering a dainty finger for her to grip. Unfortunately her attempts didn't do any good. Even Abraham took her in his arms and babbled at her to try and cheer her up. The babe quieted a bit, but soon started howling again.

"Why is she getting so agitated?" asked Maggie, clearly concerned now. Carol exchanged a confused and worried glance with Jasmine.

"Is she hungry?" Jasmine asked. "I can go ready some formula..."

Carol shook her head. "I think she's just uncomfortable."

The door opened and the wind violently stirred the candlelight, the flames flickering vigorously as if quivering in fear. Daryl stepped inside, looking from one face to the other as the child continued to squirm and make strange.

"What's pissin' her off?" asked the archer. He was just as lost as everyone else. The smell of tobacco wafted off him and Jasmine nervously glanced at Carol, who was too focused on Judith as the toddler bawled. Maggie was given the baby next. Everyone eventually took their seats again, clearly too drunk to know what to do for her. The crackling flames mingled in with Judith's yowls. As the minutes dragged out, Judith would ease up and then start back up again, even coughing from the strain as she shrieked. Daryl took the seat next to Jasmine with a heavy huff, which caused her to shift in her chair. Carol shot him a glance and he met her greenish-grey eyes confidently, challenging her to say anything to him.

The constant howling of the babe was enough to drive someone insane. Her head was beginning to throb from Judith's rather noisy complaints, which wasn't too pleasant. She just hoped that the baby would calm down soon.

"Why don't ya try singin'?" suggested Daryl, rather suddenly. The aura in the room became tense, and cold. Hollowing. Jasmine knew that singing wasn't something the group really did, at least not anymore. Maggie looked at the archer with a look of subtle shock, but nodded. Visibly, she swallowed in the firelight, and then began to sing softly to the babe. Judith's cries continued, but then eventually diminished as she began to calm down ... but unfortunately, without warning, she began to bay once more. The troop all let out a groan of frustration and defeat.

" _She'll need to calm down soon or she'll draw attention from outside_ ," Michonne remarked, her voice rather sharp. Her eyes were hard and her jaw was set. An angry, drunk Michonne was someone she didn't want to share a home with. It had been a long time since Jasmine had sang herself.. perhaps she could try? No, she wasn't in the right position to start serenading. She felt as if it would bother Judith even further. Maggie tried a little louder, but then eventually stopped, trying to hush her now with a gentle chide.

"Its okay Judith... honey.. honey, _shhh_..."

Maggie trailed off as a new voice arose, this one coming straight from an unexpected source. Daryl hummed a soft tune, the notes not incredibly perfect, but nonetheless steady and soothing. She had never seen Daryl as much of a singer. Jasmine peered in his direction in bewilderment as he crooned softly to little Judith... The baby began to settle a bit. Jasmine's gaze fluttered over to Maggie, who stared at Daryl with both shock and grief. Soon, he stopped, leaving the group in complete silence.. Judith had calmed down, and was now looking over at Daryl with sleepy eyes. Gurgles of curiosity escaped her lips. The room was chillingly silent for what felt like hours.

Judith began to fuss again, whining and writhing. Maggie instantly rose and handed the child over to Daryl. Her eyes never left the archer as she sat down on the ground at his feet. Her mouth was open slightly, and her soft green eyes were beginning to fill with tears. Daryl awkwardly gazed down at Maggie, and then allowed his gaze to quickly wash over the entire circle. Finally, he turned his attention down to Judith. Hesitating at first, he eventually took a deep breath and began to hum softly once again. Clearly the archer couldn't remember the words to the tune, but he hummed the notes as best he could. His husky voice filled the silence despite how softly he crooned to the little girl. No one moved, everybody sat still, dumbfounded.

And soon Judith was asleep, her wide eyes once upon the archer, now shut as she suckled upon the little bit of his shirt she had managed to grab.

Maggie and Glenn had escaped up to their bedroom where they were most likely going to engage in adult activities. Jasmine laughed softly as she heard them giggling from the balcony like two children. The stew pot was being washed in the sink next to her, while Jasmine dried off the dishes. Daryl scrubbed at the rim of the massive basin used for the stew that evening, the sound of the steel wool causing Jasmine to cringe slightly at first. She adjusted eventually though. Soon he rinsed the large pot out, wrinkling his nose at the sopping content that went down the drain. He was most likely a bit nauseated by the disgusting display due to how much alcohol he had consumed.

* * *

"You know, that was quite brave of you," Jasmine remarked.

Daryl turned his head to her, pausing for a moment as he furrowed his brows in question. He studied her for a moment, but then resumed his task of washing the pot free of food. "Wasn't much," he replied, shrugging.

"Daryl, you sang to Judith.." she said, arching an eyebrow.

" _So_?" Daryl shrugged.

"I didn't think a big ol' meanie would do such a thing for a screaming kid.."

"It wasn't like anyone else was tryin'," Daryl countered as he continued to wash the dishes. The task wasn't too difficult for him, which surprised her, considering that he had downed nearly four mugs full of rum.

Jasmine looked over at him and smirked. "But you of all people?"

Daryl peered over in her direction, studying her for a moment. "Why didn't _you_ sing?"

"You beat me to it, _Mister Sinatra_ ," teased Jasmine. The girl reached over and gave him a nudge. Again, she was given a calculating look, but soon he loosened up and smiled softly.

"Sinatra?" he echoed, and chuckled softly. She giggled along and nodded. Reaching over, Daryl flicked water in her direction. Jasmine let out a tiny cry of protest and then returned the little spatter, dipping her hand into the water and aiming for his face. Daryl flinched and laughed once more, and the two returned to the task at hand.

Jasmine quietly dried the cups, returning them back to the pantry. Tilting her head back, the young woman attempting to put one of the mugs back up into the cupboard. It was too far up for her, and she attempted to reach her destination by going up onto her tiptoes. When she still couldn't manage, Daryl came up behind her and placed a hand upon her waist to balance her. He then proceeded to take the mug from her hand and placed it up where it belonged. Her ears heated up, but acted with the least amount of awkwardness as possible.

"Y'know, I dunno if I like this or not.." Daryl stated, rather abruptly. Frozen, she gazed down at the counter top. He remained in the position he stood in, not even taking a moment to consider the fact that he was standing far too close for comfort. She felt Daryl faintly brush against her dark hair with a curious hand. _Oh, he's looking at the flowers_ , she thought, although still uncertain about the current situation. Jasmine was practically glued to the spot as Daryl quietly hovered behind her. There was a subtle hint of movement, and suddenly Daryl had begun to carefully unpin the french bun that Carol had worked so hard on. A few of the baby's breath buds loosened and glided to the floor, but whether it was the alcohol or not, she was mesmerized. All she could really sense at the moment was his lingering eyes upon her back and her long hair. Jasmine felt him part her hair and then cast each handful over either of her shoulders.

He seemed to linger there for a moment, before he bent his head down and rested his brow against the back of the crown of her head. " _I'm not used to you lookin' like this.._ " The soft feathering of his breath against her skin caused her free hand to grip the edge of the counter tightly. Her opposite hand that was curled against her chest balled into a partial fist. Never had Daryl even come close to touching her like this, let alone even coming near her. He had always put a comfortable amount of space between them both, which she was definitely content with... but now Jasmine was beginning to feel that the whole business of personal space seemed like something undesirable.

Carol suddenly came from around the corner, obviously finished putting away what alcohol was left and snuffing out the candles. "Daryl, Jasmine: before you two go to bed, can you make sure that - oh..."

Like a startled animal caught in the act, Daryl's head came up and he stepped away from Jasmine. The girl released the air she had been holding in her lungs, the tension in her shoulders disengaging, her legs feeling completely flaccid. Her heart was pounding. Jasmine felt the uttermost need to hold herself up using the counter top. Instantly her attention turned to the woman who had interrupted the moment, her green eyes searching her facial features. Carol gazed right back at the two with a start, her eyes fluttering from one to the other. Jasmine couldn't exactly read the expression she carried, the alcohol still dulling her senses. However, she still couldn't deny the guilt tying a knot in her stomach.

Carol's lashes fluttered, and her partially parted lips shut. Nodding with caution, she continued in an almost defeated tone, "Remember to make sure the shutters are all drawn and the door is locked."

"Got it.." Daryl replied, his voice low. Jasmine turned her head to look over at the archer, who was standing with his back to her, his hands supporting him as he leaned against the counter. His head was bowed slightly.. almost in shame.

Carol padded her way across the kitchen floor and then turned on her heel, quickly heading up the stairs. There was an awkward silence, the only interruption being the sound of her door shutting from upstairs. The two remained almost as if they were stunned, glued to where they resided as they processed what had happened. Jasmine began to come down from her place in the clouds and cleared her throat softly. Shifting, she began to to hastily comb her fingers through her hair, removing the soft white buds. Jasmine attempted to recreate the upstyle that Carol had created, but gave up eventually, admitting defeat, and simply making a sloppy bun. If such a beautiful hairstyle bothered him, then she'd make sure it changed. Finally, Jasmine worked up the courage to turn to face Daryl. The archer hadn't budged.

Hesitating, she studied the back of his leather vest, the familiar set of angel wings like some sort ironic symbol. He was far from innocent... Jasmine took a bud in her hand and tossed it at him, observing how it hit his strong back with satisfaction. Daryl turned his head to look at her and for a moment, he remained cold, but soon he shook his head and smirked. The tension within the room dissipated.

* * *

"Can y' hold your liquor well?" murmured Daryl. He always spoke in a quick quip of mumbles. Jasmine nodded as they washed up in the bathroom together. She sat on the edge of the tub, watching him rinse his face off as she combed her hair out with a brush.

"And you?"

"Are you kiddin' me?" Daryl paused to dry his face off. "I could get _twice_ as fucked up. I could drink all night."

Jasmine shook her head and softly laughed. "I doubt that."

"Next time I'll show y'," promised the archer. Once she had finished grooming her hair, she stood up and ran her hand through it. She casually ruffled it and then swung it over her shoulder. Her eyes traveled up to the archer's reflection, noticing that he was gazing right back. As he frequently would, Daryl averted his eyes once caught. Clearing his throat, he straightened up from where he had been leaning against the door frame. Jasmine's eyes dropped in though for a moment. Perhaps she should ask him why he was always staring.. Blowing out the candle, the bathroom was plunged into darkness. Jasmine turned fairly quickly, however she was met with Daryl's solid frame. She barely managed to keep them from colliding, digging her heel in to keep the contact to a minimum. There was a moment of awkward movement before Daryl stepped back and allowed her past, following behind her as she walked to her room.

"Get some rest," he said, his voice just barely over a whisper.

Jasmine smiled softly and nodded. "Okay Daryl, thank you."

Daryl began to turn but stopped himself. He paused, turned his head in her direction and hesitated... Jasmine felt her breath catch in her throat. Daryl awkwardly cleared his throat and nodded, giving her a once over. Daryl turned rather gracefully for one so drunk, and crossing the hall to his door. The girl quietly turned and opened her own door, although slowing as she didn't hear his door shut. In the silence, there was a heartbeat where she felt his eyes upon her, before she pushed her way inside and closed her own bedroom door behind her.

Holding her breath, Jasmine strained her ears.. and eventually heard the soft click as Daryl's door shut and locked. Jasmine allowed the air she had been holding in to escape her lungs and opened her eyes, gazing into the dark bedroom.

* * *

[ **Author's Note:** ] **B A M ! Okay, since that drastic turn of events, things keep getting even more heated when the group spontaneously decides that they are going to celebrate their happy lives... Because who wouldn't want to when you believe you've finally found a forever home in the mountains during the apocalypse?** **The girls even add onto it by dressing up a bit more, which I think is what really brings tension into the mix! What will happen next? Keep reading to find out.**

 **Thank you for your support, I hope you're enjoying the story so far!**


	8. Chapter 8 - Guardian

Jasmine's head throbbed from the party the previous night. She found it funny that she was hungover, of all things, during the apocalypse. Rick was up early in the morning, being ill into the bathroom sink. The sound of his retching woke the rest of the group up most likely, as she could hear the muffled groans of annoyance from somewhere off in the lodge. Rolling over, she pulled the pillow over her ears... and she was snapped up by the darkness.

* * *

Again, Jasmine was brought to the surface of reality. She could hear shuffling feet, a conversation - right by her door.

"Naw, let her sleep." It sounded like Daryl..

" _Are you sure?_ " Michonne...?

"Yeah, c'mon."

* * *

She was aroused for a final time from her slumber, granted to the sound of her door rattling. Abraham rapped on her door. "Come on miss Jasmine, you gotta get up!" he prompted. Cracking her eyes open, she saw daylight pouring in through her window. A grunt in reply was enough to satisfy Abraham. Jasmine pried herself off the bed, her hair a tangled mess. Yawning, the young woman stretched and shuffled to her window, looking out into the woods beside the lodge. There was snow peppering the ground outside. She assumed that the sleet had become gentle flakes toward the end of the night.

After getting dressed and grabbing herself some water, Jasmine put her hair up into a simple ponytail, too lazy to attempt anything more complicated or complex. She could hear the faint sound of an ax splitting through wood. Yawning again, her mouth agape, she began to head downstairs. Why hadn't anyone woken her up earlier? The girl pulled on her boots and fastened her weapons, tightening her belt. Jasmine rubbed her eyes as she slipped into the kitchen. She found herself some slices of bread out on the table, which she ate slowly. Finishing it off with a cool swallow of water, she felt significantly better with something in her stomach. Hopefully it would stay there.

Jasmine made her way outside, the door opening to the harshly bright world outside. The sky was cold and grey, and small snowflakes fluttered down from the sky. As she stepped out onto the porch, to her left she saw Maggie and Carol sitting in the wicker chairs, having a friendly conversation, and to her left the sharp sound of the ax lead her to believe that Rick was most likely throwing his back out at that moment. Jasmine walked down the stairs and the chilly breeze hit her like a train. Shivering, she shoved her hands into her pockets. The young woman was passed by Sasha, who was carrying a few logs in her arms around the front to the right side of the lodge where the wood was kept.

"We thought you had died in your sleep," teased the slender girl.

Jasmine smiled. "It takes a lot more than rum to knock me on my ass."

Straight ahead, Carl and Judith played by the slope. Judith was squealing in delight as he chased his little sister in circles. A warm smile laced her lips as she admired the scene. Rick suddenly called Carl over to come help him. As soon as she turned her attention to the chief, she immediately was met with a sight that caused her heart to leap. Daryl Dixon. He looked as spry as ever as he wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his wrist. In one powerful movement, he hoisted the ax, bringing it straight down on a log. Splinters flew as the blade cut through like a hot knife through butter. The logs were removed and replaced with another thick stump. Daryl made it look like second nature, it looked so easy.

After splitting the next log, his eyes fell upon Jasmine, who felt her face begin to burn. The temperature change in her face was clearly obvious in the frigid morning air. Swallowing hard, she blinked and gave him a nod, to which he responded with one of his own. "Carl, come help so Daryl can take a break," Rick suggested. His son gladly took the ax from the archer, who grinned. He swiped the boy's hat and ruffled his hair, placing the Stetson on his own crown.

"I'll take over the babysittin' shift," he mused. Carl reached up and Daryl removed the hat from his own head, raising it high in the air. The boy laughed.

"Come on Daryl!"

"No, _c'mon_. You can do it."

Daryl continued to tease the boy for a few moments before he finally gave in and placed the Stetson on Carl's head where it belonged. He then bent down and scooped up Judith, whom had tagged along behind her brother. "C'mere, little Ass-Kicker," he chided, lifting her up in her winter coat. It was two sizes too big, but she would grow into it. Jasmine decided to go see the two.

"I'm assuming she didn't wake up in the night?"

Daryl looked at Jasmine and then up at Judith, who was casually enjoying the activity of chewing on her own fist. "No, not that I heard."

The young woman laughed softly and looked off toward the treeline down the slope. "I didn't think so. I'm sure everybody slept without interruption.." Trailing off, Jasmine's attention fell on Rick. "Well, almost everyone," she added.

Daryl bounced Judith gently. " 'Slept through that too, I guess."

Jasmine hummed in agreement. It was awkward, there wasn't much to talk about now. Small talk couldn't clear the looming clouds that were the affair of last night. She had a few questions, but she knew they would have to wait until he was comfortable.

Placing Judith onto the ground, she zipped away, giggling as Daryl followed behind her. "Christ, she's fast!" he exclaimed. He managed to get a hold of her hand and slow her down before they began to plod down the side of the hill. Jasmine's attention never left the archer and his little friend as he talked softly to her. Judith grabbed his leg, nearly sending him over with a nervous laugh. Movement caught her attention, and Rick startled her as he stepped up next to her.

"How are you feeling?" asked Jasmine, turning her green eyes up to the tall leader. Rick gave her a glance and then returned his attention to his daughter.

"Better now that I have it outta my system," Rick replied, nodding.

Jasmine hummed in sympathy. "That's good," she added.

"The dishes were done well last night."

"Oh, well, Daryl cleaned them, not me. Thank him."

"You still helped."

Jasmine paused and stood there, watching as the archer crouched just behind the toddler, wrapping Judith in a strong arm and using the opposite to gesture to the woods. Something was worth pointing out, she assumed, and her eyes pursued the object of question. A raven flew over the canopy in the distance.

"He does a lot for this group, doesn't he?" Rick inquired softly. Turning her head, she studied him with jade-green eyes.

"Yes, yes he does," Jasmine agreed, although she was a bit confused as to where this conversation was going. Rick smiled. Their eyes returned to Daryl as he sat with little Judith, talking to her as if she were a grownup, just like him.

"I think he deserves more credit for what he does to provide for the group. He doesn't feel like he means much, but to us, there isn't much we can do to repay him."

"The same goes for you. You've given these people a home.. a life.. you've made hard decisions and sacrifices as well," Jasmine countered, giving him a look of gratitude. "Without any of you, I know that I wouldn't be still standing today - at least not as a human being."

Rick's gaze followed Jasmine's, and he nodded, hands on his hips. "You've earned your place here, I can tell you that. If we hadn't've found this place, I don't think the others could have taken much more of it all." Jasmine felt a bit sheepish now, and once again, her cheeks burned.

"Thank you," she replied, giving a dip of her head. Rick returned her acknowledgement and then turned, heading up to the porch, walking like the cowboy he was. Jasmine chuckled tenderly to herself as she observed Daryl and Judith playing a game of tag. It was unusual for her to watch the archer play a silly game with a little girl - he was a more of a "kill or be killed" kind of guy.

Daryl happened to notice Jasmine watching and held her in his gaze for only few moments. A grin was plastered to his face. Jasmine was glad to see him living in the moment. Soon he was chasing the little tod again, around on the frozen grass. Jasmine took to the porch and decided it would be best to go and talk with Carol. After last night, she honestly wondered if she had been upset by Daryl's behavior. The memories flooded back to Jasmine, and she felt her ears flush in embarrassment. Maybe she should have pushed him away... although admittedly, she hadn't been too bothered by the attention.

Oh great, now all she could think about was **Daryl**. Before she knew it, she was standing right by Carol's chair. "Er... good morning," Jasmine peeped rather timidly. At first, the older woman examined her, but then she grinned and returned her greeting.

"Came to sit with us?" inquired Carol. "How'd you sleep?"

"I guess I slept alright... you know, despite the sound of Rick blowing chunks."

Both Maggie and Carol cringed, and Jasmine wrinkled her nose. "Sorry.."

Everyone was still a bit hungover, she assumed. Glenn was probably dead to the world, given how Daryl and Abraham had encouraged him to drink more than he should have. The two older men were more accustom to that kind of activity, in all likelihood having partied hard on multiple occasions in their lives. Jasmine wasn't feeling completely tremendous herself. Her stomach was uneasy and her head felt full, almost as if she were contracting a cold.

The three engaged in conversation, although Carol was hesitant. Things definitely were awkward now between them... Jasmine hoped that she hadn't damaged their friendship. Burying herself further into her coat, she shivered against the chilly air. Close by, Carl had reached his limit and had placed the ax down, taking to the porch.

"Jasmine, can you help?" asked the exhausted boy.

The young woman nodded, and immediately stood. "Here, you go inside," she suggested. "I'll cover it for you until its my turn to switch out." Jasmine had to make herself useful somehow.

"Are you sure?" Carol asked, her brows furrowed. Well, it certainly wouldn't be Carol stepping up. It wasn't as if Jasmine believed that she couldn't do it - _oh no, definitely not_ \- it was just that the older woman was still healing from an injury, and once again, heavy labor wasn't a task appropriate for one who was recovering. Shaking her head, Jasmine gave her a grateful smile and gently patted her shoulder.

"I've got it, don't worry," Jasmine chided. The young woman pivoted and then crossed the rather long veranda. She stepped off the high end, landing with a heavy thud. Her emerald gaze washed over the logs and the ax that was embedded into the ground. Lifting the weapon, she explored the feeling of it in her hand. It was like a much heavier, clunkier version of her ronins, excluding the pick. Jasmine began the task, setting up a log and then lifting the ax over her shoulder with as much force as she could. Bringing the ax down, she managed to embed the blade halfway, before it came to a clunking halt.

Frowning, she used her foot to keep the log on the ground, attempting to remove the ax. Unfortunately, she was unsuccessful. Jasmine, in her frustration, lifted the ax above her head and slammed the weapon to the ground. The log split in half, to her surprise. Feeling confidence override the embarrassment from earlier, Jasmine nodded and grinned. Removing her coat, she rolled up the sleeves of her turtleneck, and cracked her knuckles. She grabbed herself a new log, and placed it down. This time, the ax cut through the short stump. It split in two, as easy as pie.

Jasmine continued to chop one after the other, feeling the adrenaline from each swing pump through her veins. Soon, she was sweating, and beginning to lose stamina. She cut the last log in the daily pile, before she called it quits. Wiping her brow, she climbed up onto the veranda and crossed over to Carol and Maggie, who looked over at her in surprise. "You're finished?" astonished the older woman. "Good job!" The young miss dipped her head, although still trying to catch her breath, she couldn't thank Carol at the moment.

" **No, hey! _Judith_!**"

A sudden angry cry from over near the slope caused the three women to rise in alarm. Judith was running down the side of the hillock, squealing in delight as Daryl dashed after her. For a few heartbeats, the redneck appeared to gain on the child, and the trio of gals relaxed. The archer suddenly collided with the ground, having slipped on an icy patch on the hillside, and Judith darted ahead, making a b-line for the woods.

Everything happened all in rapid-fire shots.

Carol let out a cry, Jasmine's feet left the wooden surface of the deck, and Rick burst out onto the veranda, Carl at his side, Abraham following in suit. Carol was hot on Jasmine's tail, the two racing for the hill. Daryl had appeared to come out of the daze he was in and scrambled to his feet, racing after the toddler who had now disappeared into the thicket. No, thought Jasmine. Daryl was now out of sight as he had slipped into the woodland.

Her heart hammered in her ears.

"Judith!" Carol cried.

Daryl shouted seconds after, "Judith! _Judith_!"

 _Daryl, catch her!_ Jasmine silently pleaded.

Carol slowed and stopped behind Jasmine, who glanced over her shoulder and hesitated, slowing. "Go!" the older woman urged, clearly out of breath. She held her side and bent over, trying to restore at least a little bit of energy. No, Daryl would catch her. He has to. Jasmine stopped and turned, retracing her steps back to the woman on the hillside.

" _ **Go**_ ," insisted Carol, who waved her hand in her direction as if to push her away. Jasmine was torn, up until she heard the yowl of a frightened child come from the woods. The instant caused her heart to leap. She turned and with a burst of adrenaline, she ran from the base of the hill, across the grassy plateau. Just as she was beginning to close in on her destination, Daryl Dixon broke through the branches and stepped into view. The older man was clearly out of breath, panting in exhaustion. He held Judith, who was whining, her big doe-eyes filled with crocodile tears as she gripped onto the collar of his jacket. The babe was unscathed whereas Daryl had obtained a rather nasty scrape upon his forehead and a nosebleed.

Carol finally caught up to them, gasping for air, followed by Rick and Abraham. Rick took the child from Daryl, who was visibly shaking. " _Christ_ ," Rick breathed, completely flabbergasted, holding his baby girl tight as she wailed into his neck. Her father kissed her head multiple times in relief as his daughter was safe in his arms.

"Now, all of you, let's get inside," Rick ordered.

The group quickly helped Carol walk while Daryl and Jasmine fell behind.

"You're hurt," she pointed out rather bluntly.

" _It ain't nothin_ '. She's safe," Daryl insisted, still trying to catch his breath. He appeared to be a bit shaken up. Jasmine fell silent until they reached the veranda. The group instantly went into high-alert, locking the doors and shutting as many curtains as they could. They only lit a few candles, keeping light to a bare minimum. Sasha and Abraham took to the crow's nest, their rifles equipped with silencers and full rounds. The lookouts waited while the group bustled inside, armed to the teeth in case of possible danger. Carol tried to persuade Daryl to sit down and take a moment, but unfortunately he refused. Daryl was determined to ignore the fact that he needed to be examined in case of any severe injuries. There wasn't much more she could do now, as Maggie took her upstairs to examine her.

"I need t' know if th' kid's okay, check her first," he insisted.

Jasmine, boiling over, gave him a yank on the back of his vest. He turned and she got up in his face, attempting to make herself look threatening. "She's perfectly _fine_ , Rick made sure she was. If something were wrong, he would have prioritized her first.. **now sit**."

Daryl studied her for a moment, before he admitted defeat and took a few steps backwards at first. He then allowed himself to be taken across the foyer of the lodge to the kitchen. The archer was given a stool, which he perched himself on. He squared his shoulders like an irritated animal, and waited for his treatment. Jasmine disappeared for a moment to search through the cupboards, retrieving their first-aid kit. Returning to the battered man, she gently cast her hand beneath his chin. "Let me have a look," she murmured. As she tilted his chin up, she brushed some of his hair from his face. His intense gaze never left her, giving her a rather sour look of both frustration, discomfort, and defeat.

Blood was beginning to drip from the wound on his brow, and down over the bridge of his nose, his nosebleed having subsided now, yet still leaving a nasty trail of crimson down his lips and chin. The coppery liquid stained his teeth, but Daryl appeared to be almost oblivious to the taste. He looked to be in bad shape. Jasmine knew he was fine. Sighing heavily, Jasmine shook her head. The girl commenced treatment, first cleaning the scrape and all the blood from his skin. She came away with a layer of dirt as well, given that he didn't bathe as often as he should. Daryl cringed, albeit faintly, as the cold peroxide burned the damaged flesh upon his forehead.

"How exactly did you fall?" asked Jasmine.

" _Ice 'r somethin'_ ," he mumbled, shutting his eyes as it stung again.

Jasmine hummed softly, as if in sympathy. " _Clumsy_ ," she teased, smirking.

She earned a bitter glare from the archer. He didn't appreciate the comment, obviously, but that didn't bother Jasmine. The air between the two suddenly crackled as the young lass leaned in close to investigate the wound on his brow. The abrupt intrusion of the archer's personal space became apparent as Daryl avoided her eyes, clearly uncomfortable. Swallowing hard so she could keep her composure, Jasmine reached over the counter and pulled out an oddly appropriate child's band-aid and some gauze. It would be best to keep it covered, in case Daryl managed to rub dirt into it. An infection would mean bad news for Mister Dixon, and Jasmine knew that nobody wanted to be the one to take the blame if he couldn't get the proper treatment in time.

Once he was all patched up, Jasmine stepped back and allowed him to rise. Daryl gave her a nod of gratitude, and to her surprise, the two leaned against the edge of the table simultaneously, watching as everyone remained hunkered down. The troop remained silent for a long time, speaking in hushed tones, until heavy footfalls from the staircase caused everyone to turn their heads.

"Not a walker in sight!" Abraham bellowed, the sound of his loud voice almost alien in the silence. Jasmine felt Daryl physically relax, the tension having been unknown until that moment. It made her a bit nervous... the whole group hadn't battened down the hatches for quite a while.

Next to come downstairs was Carol and Maggie. The older woman crossed the kitchen, and suddenly embraced Daryl. Once again, he was not prepared, and was almost taken aback. He cast an unsure glance in Jasmine's direction as he brought his strong arms up to envelope her. The young woman couldn't help but smile. Rick's clan of survivors began to rise from where they sat, mingling together and discussing what had happened. Baby Judith had calmed down, which was always good. That way Daryl would be content and eventually relax. Jasmine was surprised suddenly. She had been so worried about Daryl that she had completely forgotten that Judith had been the one in danger.

Concerned for the child now, Jasmine ambled through the group of people and straight up to Rick, who instinctively gave the young child to her. The small child's warmth was something she hoped would never go away. Shuttering at the thought, she held Judith close. Her father hovered next to them, gently touching Jasmine's shoulder with a strong hand. The two exchanged glances, before Jasmine pressed a gentle kiss to her head. Judith reacted with a giggle. The babe reached up and took hold of her cheeks, placing her own sloppy kiss on her nose. When the leader tilted his head to peer over his shoulder, Jasmine noticed that something powerful passed over him. Surprised when he actually turned away and parted from his daughter and herself, she followed Rick. The leader made a b-line for Daryl, who gave him a look of confusion. It honestly looked as if Rick was about to wind up and hit him. Daryl seemed to almost brace himself for a moment, only to be locked into a tight hug.

"She'd be dead if it weren't for you," Rick disclosed, his voice thick with emotion. Daryl remained silent, astonished by what was going on. The entire group, one by one, showed their gratitude once Rick let the redneck go; Sasha and Maggie gave him a tight hug, Carol gave him a pat on the arm, Michonne, Abraham, and Carl shook his hand. Finally, Jasmine, paused on the edge of the kitchen, decided to engage. She stepped into the slew of people, and weaved her way up to Rick, who happily took Judith when offered. She was unsure of what she should do, so she stayed in one spot, contributing with her own smile.

A few of the members of the troop were dewy-eyed, but all were nonetheless expressing grins of happiness and absolute gratitude.

Daryl was overwhelmed. Awestruck. Flabbergasted by all the sudden attention.

In all honesty, Jasmine felt giddy. She admired the apprehensive man as he thanked the group with a simple dip of his head, feeling the urge to embrace him like the others had... and for a moment, she was contemplating on it, but abandoned the idea immediately. Her mind wandered back to the thought though, of holding him. Biting the inside of her cheek, she practically had to rip her conscience from the topic, removing her attention from Daryl.

The group had began a thorough conversation as to why they should keep quiet, in case of any possible bandits or other dangers came their way. Rick insisted that nobody went anywhere without a second or third person. Jasmine felt her heart practically scream in her chest as Daryl's distinct shale blue gaze latched onto her, holding on without mercy. Jasmine swallowed hard and nodded, agreeing with his silent preposition. The small smirk that laced his lips made her feel eager and delighted. They both turned their heads away, their attention returning to Rick.

Her heart trembled.

* * *

[ **Author's Note:** ] **This chapter really portrays Daryl's love for Judith and Carl. He treats them as if he really were Rick's brother, and it's honestly so touching. It's obvious that things are awkward between Carol and Jasmine. I honestly believe that it was simply the fact that since Carol had grown so close with the archer, that she's a bit shocked when she found the two of them so close together that night- as if she had intruded on something.**

 **I hope you're really enjoying the story so far, thank you for reading!**


	9. Chapter 9 - Deliverance

**December**

The collision of Jasmine's heels with the cement was bone-shattering, searing pain shooting up her legs as she rose from her crouched position. Daryl had just tossed his crossbow over the chain-link, which Jasmine caught as quickly as she could. Hastily climbing up the side of the fence, an arrow clenched in his teeth, he quickly escaped the walkers that shambled toward them. The sun was hot on her sweaty skin as she peeped up at Dixon, who soon jumped and glided to the ground. He stumbled slightly, unsteady on his feet at first, but he eventually regained his bearings and the two quickly ran without hesitation.

"Did you grab the rest of those bandages?"

" _Shit_!" Daryl hissed. He abruptly came to a stop and attempted to turn back around, but Jasmine caught his arm and yanked him back.

"No, don't worry! We can turn back some other time!" Jasmine insisted.

"Y' sure?"

"I'm positive - its too much of a risk!" Tossing him his crossbow, he quickly shot the first walker in sight. Jasmine was already at the second with her ronin, the third taken down with another perfect shot from the archer. The arrows were removed, Jasmine watching his back as the walkers were attracted from the wood.

Whilst Dixon was ripping his ammunition from the skull of one of the dead, Jasmine eyed the patch of brush near the back of one of the abandon houses. Something particularly agile darted through, but before she could mention it to Daryl, he grasped her sleeve and urged her forward. They quickly made it to the end of the dead-end road, and climbed down into the ditch, their boots scraping against the frozen ground. Once off the road, they blindly pushed their way through the tangled, dying scrub and bracken. A gentle sheet of brisk rain began to fall from the sky.

Jasmine's knuckles were white from the pressure she applied to the handle of her weapon, her opposite hand caught onto Daryl's sleeve. His grip was tight on her slender wrist, almost painfully so, but she understood that it was necessary to keep hold of her when they could barely see. Breaking through the mess of leaves and branches and brush, they made it to the open clear, leaping over logs and watching where they stepped so as not to fall; they clipped along at a reasonable pace. Not a walker in sight, thankfully, but they weren't out of the thick of it yet. Finally, they scrambled up the ridge of tangled roots. Jasmine's nails dug into the face of the steep slope in such an rigorous manner, that she could feel the earth grinding up underneath her fingernails.

Daryl finally reached the apex of the remorseless slope, and came to a stop. Panting and sticky with perspiration, he reached down to hoist her up, putting her own safety before his own. Grasping her forearm in his firm grip, Daryl pulled her skyward and then helped her keep her balance as she struggled. His hand remained fastened to her upper arm until he was sure she was safe enough. Jasmine was soon up on the top of the slope in the coarse frozen grass. The girl collapsed and rolled to the side, staring up at the cold cinereal stretch above the ring of trees that surrounded the clearing. The rain had continued, numbing and intolerable.

Dixon eventually fell next to her, his head near her feet, opposite of her. They laid there for a while until she sat up. Daryl followed, and Jasmine helped him to his feet. Thus, the two continued to head back to their destination, crossing the clearing to the next break of trees. The two slid down the more forgiving side of the bluff, the man accompanying her knowing fully well that she didn't need help with this task. They made it to a ravine, using the large flat surfaces of the stones to help them pass over the frigid brook.

Jasmine scanned the area, first left, and then right. She couldn't help but feel paranoid. The femme let out a soft huff and held her ronin tight once again. In order to assure herself, her eyes fell upon Daryl's crossbow, how his elbow stuck out as he held onto the weapon's strap. After a while, Jasmine reluctantly sheathed her ronin and buried her nose into the collar of her coat to warm up herself, but was unsuccessful even after rubbing her hands together and sticking them in her pockets. Her entire body was breaking out in goosebumps.. the moderately thick autumn jacket she wore was beginning to lose its ability to protect her body from the frigid chill that the air had taken on lately.

Winter was here, and it wasn't going to be easy.

" **HELP ME! SOMEBODY!** " The cries of a young boy broke the hush of the forest. The two practically froze, turning sharply in the direction it had come from. Jasmine and Daryl exchanged glances and without question hurried to reach the bank. After following the screams for assistance, they found themselves on a plot of property. Daryl ran ahead of Jasmine, and rounding the corner, shot an arrow straight into the head of a walker. Jasmine took to the opposite side of the house, and instantly ran into the young boy who was most likely responsible for the cries. Walkers had him pinned to the railing of the front porch.

Hoisting herself up, she landed beside the large zombie, and yanked the undead creature off of him. It didn't take long for her to brutally put the walker out of its misery. Jasmine no longer felt squeamish when it came to killing - it had become a necessity in order to survive and protect the ones she held dearly. Turning her attention to the young boy, she examined him for as long as she possibly could. He was lanky with a wispy tangle of flaming hair and frightened watery blue eyes. Freckles peppered his skin, and a long gnarled scar ran from his right brow down over the bridge of his nose, running until it reached just below one of his high cheekbones.

In the moment, the boy reached out to her, and she stood there completely confused. It was then that she felt the movement of a shuffling walker, just behind her. Daryl suddenly raced up behind the undead and buried his knife into the back of its skull, earning a delicious squelching sound from the brain matter on the blade. After dealing with the walker, he rushed the boy, who was now moving toward Jasmine in a hurry. Daryl had him pinned with his arm against his throat, slamming his spine into the railing of the veranda.

" _Start talkin_ '," he growled, pressing the tip of his loaded crossbow to the boy's forehead. Jasmine flinched as he suddenly looked over in her direction, as if to ask for help.

"Daryl, that's enough, its okay."

"He probably jus' drew every walker in th' whole fuckin' area!" Daryl hissed, shooting her a poisonous side-glance.

Jasmine frowned. " _Daryl_ ," she pressed.

Dixon hesitated, huffed, and pressed the crossbow harder against the boy's brow, who let out a whimper and raised his hands. After a few moments of electrical tension, he violently ripped the crossbow away from him.

"Wasn't worth th' arrow anyway," mumbled the archer as he stepped away. He stood beside Jasmine, a hand rested upon the strap of his weapon despite his withdrawal. The dark haired girl knew he was an excellent judge of character, but he was still cautious nonetheless.

"What's y'r name?" asked Daryl, breaking the silence.

The boy swallowed hard, visibly shaking. "J-Ju-Jude."

"Jude?" Jasmine echoed. "Alright _Jude_... how did you get here?"

The boy straightened up, causing Daryl to tense. Jasmine stiffened as well, startled by his sudden protectiveness. Jude flinched and raised his hands in a submissive stance. "I was on m-my own. I had a group of people before, bu-bu-but they- they-" The boy swallowed hard again and opened his mouth, but nothing came out as his eyes fluttered to the walkers that shambled toward the house. Daryl quickly took on a combat stance, raising his crossbow, although this time toward the undead.

The arrow let loose and suddenly Jude assaulted the two. He managed to attack Daryl, punching him in the mouth and sending him stumbling back. In the heat of the moment, he grabbed Jasmine's wrist and wrenched it behind her back in an awkward, painful manner. Before she knew it she felt the barrel of a gun press against her temple. Daryl uncoiled his body from his hunched posture, and as soon as his eyes laid on Jude, Jasmine had never felt so happy yet so afraid to know him. The archer raised his weapon as well, his slate-blue gaze livid enough to bring a man to his knees. The look in his gaze definitely intimidated the boy, given how his body began to tremble something awful.

"N-No sudden movements, o-or I-I'll k-ki- _kill_ her," he stammered.

Daryl remained where he stood.

"P-Put down the w-wea-weapon!" ordered Jude. The cold iron against her temple began to fidget as a result of his shaking. When the archer took a step forward, Jude removed the safety, the loud click causing Jasmine's legs to lose feeling, her heart bellowing in her chest. The grip on her wrist became clammy, but tightened. The pain in her arm made her cringe and grit her teeth.

Daryl glanced from Jude to Jasmine, and then back. There were a few heartbeats where she was unsure if he'd put his crossbow down - he was always too proud to listen to anyone who ordered him around in general, let alone about what to do with his weapon. Finally, he cautiously knelt and lowered his weapon to the ground. Just as the crossbow was seconds from the ground, Jasmine's arm lashed out. Jude fired as she elbowed him in the stomach, causing her ears to ring. The world became slow, her vision lagging behind time as she was released from the boy's painful grip.

As she fell to the ground, Daryl dove for her and caught her, helping her to her feet. The two began to run for it, leaving Jude behind. Unsure of what was going on, all she could hear was Daryl yelling for her to run, and so she did. Soon they were dashing across the street and down toward the woods. All she could hear was Daryl's muffled voice, along with the high-pitched ringing in her ears.

Finally, she came back to reality just as the two practically leaped down an overhang and unfortunately landed on some loose earth upon the slope. The two ended up falling as they both couldn't keep their footing. Jasmine was first to try and stop herself, Daryl following in suit, but in an unlucky turn of events, their bodies collided with enough force to send them tumbling. With reflexes as quick as humanly possible, he grabbed the back of her jacket and by the end of the fall, they were practically clinging to each other at the base of the slope.

Jasmine's entire body ached and she groaned, the feeling clearly mutual as Daryl let out a cuss. The two laid there for a few quick moments before she pulled herself out of his arms and once again, stared up at the grey stretch above the bare canopy. Jasmine sat up and attempted to stand, her body screaming in pain. Daryl didn't take long to do the same, and did not hesitate to help her steady herself as she suddenly felt a spell of dizziness wash over her. Her head hammered from both the tumble and the gun shot.

"You okay?" asked Daryl, his left eye shut against the harsh light. The rain was still falling. They were both cold and sore, and unarmed now - their weapons somewhere around the base of the slope.

"Y-Yeah," Jasmine replied. "I think so..."

"You're bleeding." Daryl reached up and gently touched her temple. Whether it had been from the bullet skimming her forehead or from the fall, she had been injured in some way. Cringing at the feeling of his fingers against the cut, she hissed softly. The smell of fresh blood could draw the undead, so unfortunately Jasmine and Daryl had to get moving without much time to stop and rest their aching joints for a moment.

"Come on, let's find our weapons," suggested Jasmine. Daryl agreed with a grunt, and the two parted ways. "Stay in sight," Dixon added, calling over his shoulder as he searched the grass a few meters away.

Jasmine scanned the area, feeling her body creak and complain. One thing was for sure: she would definitely feel that in the morning. Nibbling on her bottom lip as she searched for her lost ronin, she allowed her mind to wander. Where had Jude come from? Why had he attempted to take her hostage? Maybe he needed food, medicine. There was no reason why they couldn't have reasoned with him... Rounding the corner, she found a rather large escarpment of boulders. Jasmine came to a stop, and realized she was out of sight, which would most likely upset Daryl.

A flash of something metallic was brought to her attention and she frowned. Jasmine slipped her hand down the crevice and grabbed hold of the familiar handle of her ronin. How could it have gotten all the way over here? Suspicious, she held the handle fairly tight. The sound of footsteps caught her attention and she turned, running straight into Daryl.

"What part a' stay in sight don't you get?" grilled Daryl. His jaw was set, as it became when he was irritated. Jasmine furrowed her brows.

"My ax was here..." Daryl, just as confused as she was, looked down at the crevice she had found it wedged in. He gave her a look, and then shrugged.

"Well don' look at me," he responded, having nothing else to say. "C'mon."

The two turned and began to make their way back up through the woods. Once on solid ground, Jasmine felt a bit better about their little journey. She eventually sheathed her ronin. The duo traveled along the open woods until they made it up to the walls of Alexandria. Jasmine looked up at the tilted sheets of metal, barbwire hanging dangerously close to the ground. She at times wondered what the place had been like before the whole fiasco with the walkers being let in. The femme found her attention drawn to Daryl, who was too focused on where he was putting his feet to look up.

Jasmine suddenly stepped on something that let out a high-pitched squeak. The two stopped, and she knelt, moving some of the cold, wet leaves from over top. Beneath was a doll, ragged and brown, and burnt. A twinge of sadness tugged at her heart as she looked at the doll. Daryl, meanwhile, stood there watching her for only a little while before he continued.

"C'mon Jaz," he called. "We're wastin' daylight!"

Jasmine looked up from where she was knelt down and tucked the doll into her back pocket. With a little washing up, maybe Judith would like to play with it some time. After all, a child needed a dolly once in a while. Rising, she quickly trotted after Daryl who was far ahead by now. Jasmine came to a point where the wall was leaning so bad that she had to bend down to pass. Just as she was shuffling between the tree trunk and the rusty metal, she was snagged on the back of her jacket by something. At first she thought it was just something on the metal, but suddenly a hand wrapped around her mouth and she was violently pulled up against a definitely human body.

Wedged between the two walls as she was dragged away, Jasmine struggled, fighting and flailing in her enemy's arms. She screamed, but was unfortunately muffled by her attacker's mit. Whoever had her was tall and lean, and strong enough to lift her right off her feet. In the moment, she managed to bite down on his hand, and the grip loosened. Jasmine was just getting away, but before she could yell the hand grabbed a handful of her jacket and her throat. Was she going to be killed? Who was this? Why did they smell as if they were dead? Wrenching her head around, she caught a horrifying sight in her peripheral vision. Human skin stitched together in order to create a mask, and gore-smeared clothes. Her free arm suddenly shot out and with all her might, she clawed at the surface of the wall.

A burst of adrenaline helped her struggled enough to free up her windpipe. "D-Dar-" she managed, coughing and sputtering. The moans of the approaching dead filled her with complete inescapable fear, and with one last attempt, she kicked up her heel, causing her attacker to lose his grip on her slender neck. With a large gulp of air, she filled her lungs until her diaphragm was ready to burst, and screamed so loud that her throat felt as if it had practically turned inside out.

Daryl whipped around with a look of utter horror on his face and raced over, drawing his crossbow and raising it. When the archer was halfway, the buttons on her jacket broke and she was released from her attacker's claws. Jasmine dashed straight to him, flying into his arms, wild with fear. Daryl held her close with one arm, the other still holding his crossbow, his head turning down in order to look at her in what was most likely surprise. Jasmine's body convulsed as she sobbed into his chest, her body trembling in fear. She had no idea who or what that had been, but she never wanted it to happen again.

Daryl suddenly urged her to move, grasping her hand and running for the quickest getaway route. They darted through trees and up along the side of the wall, escaping from their pursuers. They weren't exactly that fast, but nonetheless dangerous, and thus they needed to make for home where there was safety in numbers. Jasmine still sobbed, completely shocked from the previous encounter. Her teeth chattered as the rain began to soak through her clothes, and she began to shiver. It was so cold. The two rounded the corner and were just about to turn into the ruins to find Daryl's bike, when suddenly coils of intact barbwire fell from above. The duo struggled like two fish caught in a net. Daryl was beginning to push his way to the front, taking the beating himself while keeping the wire away from Jasmine. They began to work together to break through, when suddenly her shoulder was snagged. In fright, she unlatched her ronin and grabbed the wire, ignoring how it dug into her flesh. Jasmine cut herself loose and the two were just about to the other side... when suddenly Daryl's predictions came true.

Her long, beautiful dark hair was suddenly snatched by the wire.

"O-Oh my god, Daryl, **h-help**!" she fretted, all bravery lost. She turned and frantically attempted to untangle herself. Daryl was at her side in an instant, frantically searching for a way to free her somehow. He tugged at the locks of her hair, which caused pain to shoot through her scalp, a warble of agony ripping from her throat. He hushed her, trying to keep her calm in the situation. Jasmine began to panic as the walkers were coming closer, the sound of their hungry snarls growing louder. Daryl stepped away from Jasmine and looked up, searching for a way to tug the wire down, but unfortunately their time was beginning to diminish into seconds. The undead shambled from around the corner, and upon seeing their prey, began to reach and claw.

"Daryl, _Daryl please_!" she began to plead. "Please, _get me out of here_!"

Some of the walkers became snagged on the barbwire, some began to push their way through. Jasmine reached up and gripped the wire once more, ignoring the pain as the barbs sliced into her hands. One of the walkers managed to get through, and Daryl suddenly unsheathed his knife, executing it quickly. This ended up pushing the zombie back into the wire, causing her to stumble back along with it, dropping her weapon and leaving her defenseless. Her cheeks were scraped by the barbs, the chewing sensation causing her to yelp. Daryl couldn't get close enough to reach her hand, the tendrils of barbwire cutting into his face keeping him away. She could see the panic in his expression as he looked at her through the coils.

"My hand, grab my hand!" he urged, practically shoving his hand through. In one swift movement, she pushed forward and he lifted the coils in front. Her hair ripped, suddenly freeing her, but due to the constant pushing of the undead, Jasmine was caught again, this time further up, just under the base of her skull. In the moment, Daryl picked up the ronin on the ground and swung for one of the walkers. They were beginning to surround them, closing in as they fought to be free.

Finally yanking the ronin free, she began to scream as suddenly the walkers were being picked off by sniper fire. Unsure of where it was coming from, or whether it was friendly fire or not, Daryl reached again and attempted to rip her hair free. She cried out in pain. Soon he was forced to begin killing off both the roamers trying to grab her and those trying to surround him. He kicked at them, he knocked them back, he killed as many as he could. Time was almost up.

"Daryl, just go!" Jasmine finally cried. "Go, or... or...just..." **_Kill me._** She couldn't bring herself to say those two words. Daryl wouldn't be able to do it, no matter how strong he was. He ignored her, in fact fighting harder this time as if fueled by his emotions. Tears were beginning to fill his eyes. He knew it was becoming inevitable. A bullet suddenly whizzed too close, and a few strands of her hair were sliced in half. Daryl, who had ducked, suddenly looked up at Jasmine, who looked at him.

In one sudden movement, he killed off another walker, and at the same moment another bullet whizzed by Daryl's head. Someone was trying to kill them. No... Someone was trying to kill _him_.

Jasmine looked around hastily for something, finding herself a rather thick stick and using it to drill into the heads of the walkers who got too close. Another bullet whizzed by, and more of her hair suddenly was sliced, albeit only a small amount. In the moment as she swung blindly, she suddenly laid eyes upon the being who had attempted to drag her away. He was watching them and standing as still as stone, like a ghost. She began to panic, hysterically sobbing.

Daryl followed her gaze as he took down another zombie, and stared whatever it was down for a few moments, rigid and disturbed. She covered her eyes and tried to breathe. She disappeared into her mind. The zombies behind her were being picked off, as if someone were trying to help... on the other hand, they were also aiming for Daryl. The vast majority of her hair was caught. They were trapped between a rock and a hard place.

A bullet sliced through some of her hair. Oh, Carol would be so upset, she'd fuss over her split ends as if she were her mother! Although, on the bright side, she'd definitely have to trim it now instead of fussing over how it was a waste...

 ** _"Maybe, someday. I don't know. Maybe like your's."_**

The breath caught in Jasmine's throat.

Carol's hair.

"Daryl, cut it off!"

" _You want me t' wh-_ "

" **Cut my hair**!" There was a heartbeat where Daryl seemed to pause.

The gunfire suddenly began to increase, and the moment was suddenly much louder. She opened her eyes, seeing that the man in the mask had moved closer. Her stomach flipped. She screamed, "Daryl, now! _**PLEASE**_!"

"Okay Jaz, _move_!" Daryl suddenly ordered, and she did. She lunged forward, and he swung. As if by a miracle, the blade sliced clean through, and she was free...

 **And they ran.**

* * *

[ **Author's Note:** ] **_Y E S_. That is all I can say. The sheer terror I felt while I wrote this was unimaginable, mostly because of how I picture the skin-thing-guy-whatever. The intensity of emotion in the moment is hard to follow when you're constantly jumping around from the approaching walkers and such. If you happen to notice in the character profiles that Jasmine's hair is short in the original picture, this is why. **

**It signifies her breaking free from her old life, although she literally had a meltdown (which didn't help poor Daryl with his concentration).**

 **Also, Jude. He's my precious bab. He's the second OC to be introduced (next to Jasmine). Where the heck did he come from?**


	10. Chapter 10 - Aegis

They returned, soaked through to the bone; their faces were cut and scraped, their bodies bruised... and Jasmine was missing half of her beautiful hair. As if divided equally, one side of her head remained a long, damp tangled mess; the other, unfortunately, was cut off just below her earlobe, the ends frayed and wild. They were both exhausted. Daryl had insisted that Jasmine take his coat and vest. They wouldn't have had time if he had offered it on the run - they didn't want to risk being followed back nor caught, so they sped off as quickly as they could, taking the long route home.

As the two pulled up around back, the group was instantly warned of danger as Daryl let out a sharp, double-noted whistle. They turned off the motor and hunkered down against the side of the lodge, waiting for a response. Upon hearing Sasha's response of affirmation, Daryl quickly brought her close and used his body to support her as they ran on numb legs. Jasmine found that she could hardly walk. Her head was foggy, and she was shivering so hard that her whole body quaked. Moving too slow for Daryl's liking, he threw her arm over his shoulder and lifted her a few inches off the earth, helping her walk to the front veranda. They were rushed by Maggie and Glenn, who helped them inside and instantly gave them towels. Rick was downstairs in an instant, Carol scurrying along not far behind, carrying warmer clothes. The older woman gasped at the sight of the two.

"We ran into some kid. He lied to us- held Jaz at gunpoint," Daryl began to explain. Jasmine remained silent, distant and someplace else. "We got caught in some kind of rigged trap. Her hair got stuck. Had to cut it... someone was _shooting_ at us." She couldn't stop thinking about the man with that horrible mask. Her stomach twisted. Suddenly everyone began to ask questions at once.

"Who were they?"

"Did you kill the kid?"

"So you guys went into Alexandria?"

People were suddenly fussing around them, which caused her a bit of discomfort as the moment all became too much. Instead of answering, Jasmine stiffened next to Daryl and stared at the floor, unable to speak. She didn't want anyone knowing about how she had acted... no way, they'd think she wasn't cut out to be part of their team.

"Would you guys _lay off_?" Daryl suddenly growled. The group fell silent.

"I think it's best if we give these two some space. We can discuss this later," Rick advised the troop. Nervously, everyone returned to their chores. How could the accept no as an answer? Their safety... their safety..

Her train of thought ground to a halt.

A familiar tangle of silver hair brought her back to reality. "Jasmine... honey... I'm going to give you some dry clothes, okay?" Carol murmured, looking at her in concern. She turned her eyes up to her and smiled faintly. " _Okay_..." she replied. The older woman shot Daryl and Rick a look, and then began to escort Jasmine to the back for privacy.

Jasmine, before she knew it, was tucked back in the safety of the storage closet, dressed in only her undergarments. Carol quietly unfolded the clothes for the drenched girl and helped her into some fresh pants and a burgundy t-shirt. They had found the item a few weeks ago - it was the one that Jasmine had really liked. She preferred her turtleneck, in all honesty. After the task was done, Carol looked her over. Jasmine timidly peered over at the older woman, who extended a hand. Jasmine shied from her at first, but she eventually allowed her to touch her. With permission, she gently laid her hand upon the back of her head, and drew her in. Carol gently pressed a kiss to her forehead, and thus Jasmine relaxed, shutting her eyes as tears pricked and bubbled at her lashes.

"You're okay now. You're okay," Carol cooed, pulling her into a hug. Jasmine, once she had finished crying, was released from her embrace. The older woman looked her over, running her fingers up into the severed ends of her dark hair. A solemn smile laced her lips and she chuckled softly.

"I guess I will have to end up cutting it off," she murmured. Jasmine smiled too, sniffing gently in an attempt to clear her nose. Carol had practically become her mother.. in fact, she was more of a mother than her own mother had ever been. She would always be away on "business trips", leaving her and her brother to fend for themselves while their father went out with other women. Both of them had always been too afraid to say anything, so they just let it happen. Jasmine had never really had a mother figure to look up to, so Carol was as close as it would get. There was nothing wrong with the idea either. Jasmine loved Carol so much.

When the two returned to the kitchen, Daryl and Rick were nowhere in sight. Jasmine felt a bit ill and uneasy, wondering where the archer and the chief had disappeared off to. Swallowing anxiously, she pulled up a stool and perched herself upon it. Carol was soon next to her, a ratty towel being tied around her neck and shoulders to keep any hair off her clothes. The older woman pulled out her trusty scissors and took hold of what was left of her long hair, parting it from the frayed side. With a pause and a deep breath from both of them, Carol closed the blades over the long, thick locks of hair.

Jasmine suddenly felt as if a rather significant weight had been taken off of her crown as Carol cut gracefully, removing long tendrils of hair and allowing them to flutter to the hardwood below. Once the side in question was level with the rest of her hair, Carol stopped. "How short do you want it?" she asked.

Jasmine paused and took a deep breath. "Like your's."

She could tell that the older woman was smiling from behind her, even when she couldn't see her. It didn't take her long to busy herself once more. Jasmine felt the minutes tick by until finally, within a half an hour, her hair was cut in a very short style, her bangs brushed out to the front. Her neck and ears felt fairly bare, but it was something she would get used to. Rising up, she removed the rag and turned to face Carol, who looked upon her with a sad smile.

"You look gorgeous," she purred. "It compliments and defines your features." She then turned her eyes down toward the tuft-littered ground. "I think we should probably clean this up." The two set to getting a broom and dustpan, cleaning up as best they could so that no one would go through the unpleasant feeling of hair under their bare feet. Jasmine hated that feeling with a passion, and that was why she always tried to wear socks indoors. Anything unnatural under her feet caused her skin to crawl. Its why she didn't like to be touched sometimes.

Jasmine was finishing the rest of the sweeping while Carol proceeded to rinse off the scissors, when suddenly the door opened and Rick came inside, Daryl close behind him. The leader looked over at Jasmine for a moment, giving a simple glance. That's when it clicked, she suspected, causing Rick to double-take. Taking her in, at first he appeared rather shocked, but soon he smiled. Daryl was removing his crossbow just behind him, and slowed his movements, his shale blue gaze eating her alive. Jasmine looked between the two.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

Rick opened his mouth, but then shut it. He shook his head. Jasmine nodded.

" _Good_ ," mumbled Daryl. Rick shot him a look of pure brine, before Daryl sauntered over to the furniture, leaning back against the couch. Jasmine finished cleaning and gave the broom and pan to Carol, allowing her to cross the kitchen into the foyer. She toddled up to stand next to Rick.

"So, any sign of whoever ambushed us?" she asked, almost afraid to know the answer. Jasmine stood there, rubbing her arms as she attempted to keep herself warm. She could feel her fingers and toes now, so that was good. She no longer felt as if the cold were cutting right through her. Rick rested a hand on his hip and ran the other through his hair.

"Although it seems like there's evidence that they haven't followed you two, I don't think we should go out there right away and search. Unfortunately, the possibility that they found us is still plausible," Rick replied, shaking his head and scratching his chin. "I just hope that isn't the case." Jasmine exchanged a glance with Daryl, who stared at the ground in what appeared to be shame. Turning his back to her, Rick began to head for the staircase, most likely to go check on Sasha and Abraham. "I'll see you folks at dinner."

Jasmine felt dread fill her to the brim, and honestly the thought of food made her feel ill. Even Rick was unsure. The whole troop was scared, even their stoic leader.

* * *

The fire crackled and spit sparks as Glenn added another log. The group ate together in the foyer, some sitting on the floor, some in their seats. Jasmine quietly picked away at the squirrel Daryl was forcing her to eat, Carl scarfing down his beans like the growing, hungry boy he was. Rick was feeding baby Judith, who smacked her lips and made a mess, while Sasha quietly spoke to Abraham away from the gathered members; Michonne chatted quietly with Carol, Maggie and Glenn sharing their meal and making soft small-talk. The air was tense. Whenever someone so much stand up to get seconds, people would glue their attention to them.

Jasmine knew that they were all on edge. Daryl never let his weapon go, he just simply cleaned the bolts, slumped back in his chair. Pausing for a moment, her eyes fluttered to the archer, who paid no mind to her. Small cuts littered his cheeks and hands; they ran up along his arms, clustering around his wrists. His hair was a tangled mess - as usual.. His intense cobalt gaze was pasted to his weapon. Turning her attention away, she swallowed what she had been chewing. Images of the thick layers of skin upon the man's face screamed in her mind so suddenly that she felt the urge to vomit.

Holding it down, she could feel her face go pale, but attempted to ignore it. Jasmine placed her plastic plate onto the carpet and covered her mouth with the back of her hand. Once the nausea passed, she took a deep breath and wiped her clammy hands on her pants, before clearing her throat. Jasmine looked back up at Daryl and flattened her lips together.

"Would you like the rest of that?" she inquired, gesturing to the squirrel.

Daryl eyed the meat, but then turned his attention back to his arrow, shaking his head gently. He remained silent, now simply playing with the end of the bolt. The sharp weapon made her feel uneasy once again. It reminded her of the evening she had found him, collapsed on the floor, partially conscious and bleeding out. Nodding, she rose to her feet and grabbed her plate, offering the rest to Abraham. The beefy man scarfed it down quickly and then returned the plate.

Jasmine was amused by how hungry the brute was, and couldn't help but laugh gently. Some of the group were smiling as well, having the same reaction. That was good. Some of the heavy clouds of dread were lifted. As she walked away from the foyer and up to the kitchen, she washed off her plate and rinsed her fingers. The meat was greasy and fairly tasteless, but it was at least something. As she glanced over at Daryl, she couldn't help but feel gratitude resonate from the pit of her chest. He was always so selfless when it came to situations like these.

Frowning as she realized that he wasn't eating, she let out a sigh. Maybe it was too much for him at the moment to attempt to hold something down.. just like her? Jasmine nibbled on the inside of her cheek, glancing around for a moment, before she decided to wander. The young woman took down the hall, wandering along the candle-lit passageway, before coming to the small powder room just beneath the stairs. Jasmine stepped inside, bringing one of the candles that lined the hall with her. The room was washed in orange light. She shut the door, and then turned to the sink, only to be shocked by what she saw.

Jasmine looked like a completely different person. She definitely looked rugged and almost rural, her green eyes screaming out from her pale complexion, standing out drastically against her dark - and short - hair. Her cheeks and lip were peppered with small cuts and bruises. What really startled her though, was what she saw upon her neck. Wrapping around her slender throat were bruises of violet, slowly forming upon the surface of her skin where she had been grasped. Shivering at the memory, she looked away, disturbed. Jasmine ran a hand through her short hair, and ran her tongue over her teeth, before she leaned down and splashed her face with some cool water. This was why she was so thankful for the well that the lodge ran off of.

As Jasmine was drying her face off, she was startled by the sudden sound of a rap at the front door of the lodge. Her heart practically leaped from her chest and ran to hide in the toilet. Jasmine grasped the handle of the door, and stood there, holding her breath so she could hear. There were muffled voices, and then suddenly an audible struggle in the front, Rick and Daryl's loud cries coming from out in the foyer. Swallowing hard, she whipped the door open and unlatched her ronin, racing down the hall. She prepared herself to aid in any way, and as she came into the open and hopped up onto the level the kitchen resided in, she slowed and stopped.

Everybody was standing, staring at a rather familiar young man with flaming red hair, and a long scar across his face. He stood with his hands raised in submission, as if this were the first time he had been threatened. Rick and Daryl had their weapons pointed toward the closest lethal shot they could. Michonne had draw her blade and was standing in front of Carl, who held his sister and had drawn his own gun. Maggie and Carol held each other, and Glenn and Abraham created a wall in front of the vulnerable women, holding tightly to the handle of their weapons, ready to draw.

Jasmine took a step back, and was about to escape, when suddenly the boy caught sight of her. Jude was about to speak, reaching for her, when suddenly the safety was taken off Rick's pistol, and Daryl stiffened, and jabbed the arrow from his crossbow up against the back of his skull.

"Don't you fuckin' _dare_ ," he growled. "I ain't lettin' you pull that shit on her again." His nose wrinkled like that of a wolf, attempting to intimidate the weaker male. Jude's hands trembled as they remained outstretched, fear clear in his expression and body language. His chest rose and fell quickly. Jasmine suddenly felt her heart palpitate as she laid eyes upon what he held in his hand. Grabbing for her back pocket, her ticker practically sank like a stone. In Jude's hand, he held the same muddy, raggedy doll she had found by the fence just before the assault. Swallowing nervously, she spoke up.

"Put your guns down," she ordered, although it came out as a weak attempt to show authority. Her heart began to hammer as Daryl and Rick looked at her as if she were insane. "Please..." After a moment of glancing between the two, Rick shot everyone a look and then signaled for Daryl to search him for weapons. Jude's fair complexion turned pink as he was patted down by the archer, who found his gun and ripped it from the back of his waistband.

"He's clean," he said, shooting Jasmine a glance and then tossing the weapon (safety off) to the leader. Rick lowered his gun, as did everyone else, although the group still remained wary. Jasmine in the meantime, eyed Daryl, who hadn't done as he was told. She brushed it off, knowing that it could save their lives.

"How did you find us?" interrogated Rick.

Jude licked his lips nervously. "I-I followed the m-mo-motorbike."

Daryl's jaw tightened and he shifted where he stood. Shooting him a look, Jasmine then slowly approached Jude, who turned to her a bit too eagerly, earning him a jab in the back of the head once again. "Keep still," Daryl hissed.

Coming to a stop in front of Jude, she reached up and snatched the doll from his hands. "I-I s-saw that you d-dro-dropped this," he admitted. "When they were sh-shoo-ooting, I was watching fro-rom the bushes." Once again, Daryl shifted, although this time he lowered his crossbow. Jude appeared to physically relax, and although cautiously, he offered one of the button eyes.

"Thank you..." Jasmine replied, her brows furrowed.

"Why didn't you try 'n help then, kid?" Daryl hissed.

"I di-idn't want to r-risk getting cau-aught."

Jasmine gave the boy a once-over, her dark lashes fluttering. Images from the struggle were flashing in her mind. Not once, in her terror, had she seen the boy near by.. but perhaps she simply hadn't looked his way.

"Caught?" echoed Rick. "What do you mean, caught?"

"Th-the-e people who ha-had been sh-shoo-ooting at you guys," Jude explained. "They were loo-looking for me. I-I ha-had escaped, I was-"

"Then why'd you try and kill Jasmine?" Daryl interjected, clearly not having any of his shit. It was a good question. Jude turned to Daryl, an honest look of terror on his face. The red-head opened her mouth to speak.

"I-I didn't - y-you had a we-weapon to my hea-ead!"

"That don't matter, you could've-"

" **Daryl, shut up**!" Jasmine spat. She had had enough. Daryl looked at her with a rather surprised, but nonetheless bitter look. He swallowed his pride, and stepped back. She knew he only wanted to protect the group, but his constant outbursts were disturbing the peace. Turning her attention back to Jude, she blinked up at the lanky boy, who looked at her with pleading eyes. His eyes were a very pale blue. Jasmine noted how his left ocular's watery depths were interrupted by dark blemishes of coffee brown.

"You say that you escaped?" asked Rick. "Where from?"

"I-If I to-told you, you guys would be in s-se-erious danger."

Jasmine exchanged glances with Rick, pleading that he eased up on the boy. She felt as though he needed her - he needed them, just as she had when she had first been introduced to his troop. After a moment of tense silence, Rick turned his head to the boy.

"How many walkers have you killed?" he began. Daryl turned his head down, clearly upset that he was being accepted.

"T-Too many..."

"How many people have you killed?"

Jude paled and swallowed hard. The silence seemed to drag on once more, and Jasmine began to fear the worst. "Nine," he finally answered.

The entire group tensed, Carol bringing her hand to her mouth.

Rick's gaze never faltered. He swallowed. "Why?"

Jude looked as if he were ready to cry. "I was forced to. Th-they were sentenced to dea-eath... and **Fallon** doesn't accept n-no as an answer."

* * *

[ **Author's Note:** ] **Aegis (noun): the protection, backing, or support of a particular person or organization.**

 **The group protects one another, always, as family always should. I really like the fact that Daryl makes sure that Jasmine is warm, giving him her coat and vest even at his own expense. Poor Daryl is always disregarded when it comes to decisions lately; it seems as though Rick is beginning to stray from Daryl? Ricktatorship, it seems... is returning. ;)**

 **Also, Fallon? Who? What? Keep reading to find out!**


	11. Chapter 11 - Because I Need You

**Fallon**. The name rolled around in her head like a marble in a glass jar. Jasmine sat not far from Jude, who was settled on the wooden stool next to the island in the kitchen. He was scarfing down the leftover beans, his expression of pure ecstasy. She had promised Rick that she would watch Jude until he made a decision as to whether to keep him around or not. Daryl, obviously pissed off by the kid's acceptance, stormed off outside, alone. This worried Jasmine, but she knew he wouldn't go far. Daryl was strong. Quietly, she offered him a napkin, which he gratefully took and wiped his maw.

"This _Fallon_ you spoke of," Jasmine said softly, her voice low so the group couldn't hear. "Who is he?"

Jude paused, then chewed a few more times, before swallowing. " _She_ ," he corrected, and then continued to scarf down his food. Once again, he was refusing to open up about anything. Naturally, she assumed that Jude had been through something horrible, and would most likely talk once ready. Nodding, Jasmine glanced over at Abraham who was waiting to take her shift. She wanted to go and talk to Daryl.

"That m-man with the crossbo-ow..." Jude suddenly began. He was looking down at the messy bowl before him. His eyes turned up to meet Jasmine's. "Has he got som-something shoved up his a- _ass_?" The young woman blinked in confusion for a moment, but then smiled.

"Yeah. I think he sat on one of his arrows at one point," Jasmine mused. "..and it gets to him once in a while." Jude smiled and the two laughed gently. Well, he may be out to kill them all (maybe, maybe not), but Jasmine felt a bit more relaxed. Some light-hearted fun was all she needed.

"Still, h-he saved you," Jude continued, then stopped, nodding in her direction. "Yo-your hair, its short no-now." Jasmine had almost forgotten about the breeze on the back of her neck. She reached up and felt her dark hair.

"Oh, yeah," she agreed, smiling faintly. "He-"

"Cut i-it with the _ax_ ," Jude finished. "He wa-was determi-ined to save y-you."

Jasmine recalled the tears in Daryl's eyes as she had told him to save himself, how barbarously he fought, as if her pleading egged him on to fight harder. The thought caused her eyes to drop. Emotion overwhelmed her. "Yes, I suppose he was." Jude grinned happily and then proceeded to bring his plate to the sink, although he awkwardly hovered, unsure of where to put the dish. Jasmine stood up, amused by his childlike behavior, even after the horrors he had spoken of before.

"In here," she directed, taking it from him and placing it in the cold water. Carl was taking Judith up the stairs when she ogled at Jude's rather vibrant curly hair. Confused, Carl stopped.

"I think she likes you," Carl stated bluntly. Jude turned his head to look up at the boy, who was only a few years younger.

"Oh, we-well.." Jasmine could tell he wasn't sure how to react.

"What's her name?" Jude finally asked.

" _Judith_... kinda like yours."

Jude smiled. "C-cute.."

Carl then awkwardly nodded, and continued his voyage up the stairs. Suddenly Glenn had somehow snuck up on the two, startling Jasmine. He needed a bell.

"Why don't you go find Daryl?" He suggested. "He hasn't come back yet and Carol is beginning to fuss about it." Jasmine remembered how the older man had stormed out of the house in the moment. The femme glanced at Jude, who frowned nervously. Her eyes then floated over to Carol, who was stitching the eye onto the doll in her hands, chattering to a rather stressed Maggie.

"I'll watch him, just go before she has a hemorrhage or something!" Glenn said.

Amused, Jasmine nodded and departed, taking to the door. Rick gave her a nod. "Be safe," he cautioned, handing her Maggie's coat and a lantern. Quickly she tightened the laces on her boots, she gave him a dip of her head, and then slipped out the door. The cold air kissed her cheeks and nipped at her ears, the back of her neck breaking out into goosebumps. Moving as silent as a ghost, she closed the door behind her and crossed to the windowsill, finding the hidden box of matches. She struck the match and lit the lantern, before she stamped out the charred match. The wind was beginning to pick up, the sound of the trees out in the swath of forest creaking and groaning in complaint as they bent and shifted. Raising the lantern, she slowly searched the front lawn. It didn't take long before she noticed the figure sitting on the end of the hill.

" _Daryl_?" she called softly.

The figure's head turned. Jasmine approached, the fear of it being someone unknown gnawing at the back of her mind. Relief filled her as she noticed the glowing ember from the cigarette in his lips. It was Daryl alright. Jasmine stopped and stood next to Daryl, looking up at the star-flecked sky.

"Shouldn't you be in there with your new _friend_?" he inquired. He was being rather boorish, still sore over the boy's acceptance. How immature. Daryl took a drag of his cigarette and turned his eyes out toward the canopy. Jasmine, with a heavy sigh, set the lantern next to Daryl and sat down. She adjusted the burner's intensity, the light dimming gently until it was hardly noticeable.

"My _new friend_ is being taken care of," Jasmine shot back, her eyes remaining on the sky. The smell of tobacco filled her nose as he let out another puff of smoke. "You shouldn't be so hostile. He needed help..."

"Yeah, well... he did get us trapped," Daryl reminded her. "Nearly got us _killed_." The words rolled off his tongue, every drop a corrosive poison. Jasmine shook her head and fell silent. What he was saying was true... maybe something horrible was coming, something no one else but Daryl seemed to see. Granted, everyone was cautious at the moment, but a seventeen-year-old boy needing help wasn't something you was every day. It was a miracle that Carl was alive, and he was even younger. And _Judith_...

"You have a point," Jasmine murmured. There was more silence as the two watched the moon's massive silver disk begin to rise into the sky. In the distance, an owl softly hooted. The eerie sound caused Jasmine to shiver gently. Her mind continued to wander. Daryl reminded her of an owl... always observant, always quiet. Powerful and beautiful. The breeze was cold, so he'd ruffle his feathers and tough it out...

Something touched her hair- Jasmine flinched, whipping her head around to see that it was only Daryl. The archer had abruptly stopped, hovering, before he proceeded to gently feel her hair.

"Y' look like a boy," he remarked. Jasmine frowned and rolled her eyes. She allowed him to stroke her head, sighing when he drew away. At least he wasn't angry with her anymore. Her eyes fluttered over the moon off in the distance. The owl called once again. No.. Daryl Dixon was more of a wolf than an owl. Built for cruel conditions, built for the cold, built for survival; he was born to trek long distances, born for the hunt, born to kill. He was unpredictable, introverted - he preferred to be left in solitude. Yet he let Rick and everyone near him... why?

"Why didn't you run?" Jasmine suddenly asked, rather surprised when the words left her mouth. Her eyes traveled to Daryl, who looked upon her with his eyes gleaming in the lantern's light. "Why didn't you leave me there and _save_ yourself like I asked you to?" she asked again.

Silence.

Daryl turned his head and took a long drag, before he allowed the smoke to leave his lungs. He tapped the ashes off the end of his cigarette.

"'Cuz.. I need y' around," he replied, his gravelly voice low. The words passed through her like a spirit. Jasmine felt her throat lock up. "Rick needs you around. Carol. _Everyone_." Tears began to well in her eyes. Jasmine gritted her teeth, her throat closing up completely as she attempted to stop the tears... when suddenly, Daryl reached over and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into his broad chest. Jasmine's torso twisted while her hips and legs remained partially stationary, leaving her in a rather awkward position as he embraced her. He simply gazed out over the trees down the escarpment, his shale-blue eyes distant in the lamp light. His knees were bent, his elbows resting against his kneecaps, his cigarette resting between two fingers.

Jasmine's body heaved, and suddenly she began to sob. She clutched his charcoal-grey button-up, the material balling into her grasp, her free hand curling against her breast as she buried her face against him. Jasmine felt him shift and noticed him tilt his head back. He took a trembling breath in, and wiped his own eyes, his grip upon her shoulder tightening. Daryl shifted and rested his chin on her head, his hand gently stroking her arm, looking off east of them. After a few moments, she felt him stir, and suddenly his body shuttered, and he began to softly cry. Daryl brought his head down, pressing a kiss against the top of her head for a moment, which Jasmine didn't particularly pay any mind to. There was a long period of time before he perched his jaw on the crown of her head, listening to her continue to cry.

The two remained like that until Jasmine had calmed down, although she hiccuped a few times. Taking a deep breath, she shut her damp eyes. Daryl was so warm, his arms strong and welcoming. She had honestly never really been held by the archer before, but now she understood what she had been missing. It was comforting in times of strife.

Jasmine suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her and pulled away, letting out a scoff. What was she doing? She was a mess. She wiped her ruddy face, and stood up hastily, taking hold of the lantern. Daryl wouldn't allow her to leave, and caught her by the sleeve. She spun toward him and upon facing him, looked anywhere but his face, her eyes finding a single point on his chest. His eyes were all over her, she knew. It overwhelmed her.

" _Daryl_ ," she pleaded softly, her eyes fluttering shyly up to the archer's face. Their eyes met and he looked away, almost as timidly as she had. It seemed that he was coming to from... whatever had come over him.

"Yeah, go..." Daryl finally said. Jasmine could tell that he wanted her to say. Having caught him at a time where he wasn't putting up the wall he usually did and shutting her out, she felt almost hesitant to simply escape because she didn't know what to expect. There she stood, completely torn, as she felt the same intense fire of emotion she had the evening they were drunk.

"Whatever, _go_ ," he repeated. With a flip of his hands, he turned and walked off into the inky shadows, and then around the side of the lodge. The moon was slowly choked out by clouds, leaving Jasmine with an unbearable emptiness in her chest, all alone in the dark...

She felt hollow.

* * *

Everybody had retired for the evening long ago. The young woman finished up in the bathroom, having taken a bath for once, feeling completely clean. Her hair had a natural luster, given that it was easier to wash now that it was short. She was thankful that she didn't have to deal with such a tangled mess anymore. After quickly combing her dark hair out, Jasmine exited the bathroom and padded down the empty hallway. Jasmine had just exchanged shifts with Michonne so she could get some rest, and so that was what she was going to do. She was just about at her door, when she heard the gentle clatter of a glass being set down on a hard surface.

Jasmine frowned in confusion, taking to the banister. The entire foyer was in darkness, the only source of light being the faint glow of a candle in the kitchen. At first, she wondered if it was Abraham sneaking a drink before bed... but as she looked over her shoulder and down toward the halls, in the dark, she saw that his door was shut and the light was just being put out. Swallowing, Jasmine took to the stairs and headed down, the creaking of the steps almost unbearably loud in the silence.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she narrowed her eyes against the warm light, peering over at Rick. He stood, leaning against the island counter, a cup of rum in his hand. He drank slowly, his eyes far off and distant. She frowned, and approached.

"Rick?" Jasmine murmured.

The scruffy gentleman jerked his head up, startled by the sound of her voice. He let out a gentle sigh, almost as if in relief. He shifted, set his glass on the counter, and then ran a hand over his face. He looked exhausted. Why was he up so late?

"Did Michonne relieve you?" he asked, his words a bit slurred.

Jasmine eyed him as she came closer. "Yes... " She paused, coming to a stop next to him. "Why are you _drinking_?" Rick glanced over at the bottle and the glass on the counter. He didn't respond, he simply cleared his throat, and avoided her eyes.

"Uh.. I.. can't seem to sleep," he finally replied. He was definitely hiding something, but Jasmine wasn't going to pry. She simply leaned her slender back against the counter.

"Daryl didn't come back inside?" inquired Rick, rather concerned.

Jasmine swallowed, her gaze fixating on the floor. "Uh.. _no_.."

There was a moment of silence. Jasmine could feel Rick giving her a puzzled look, before he returned to his cup. The silence ensued. She listened to him finish up his drink, and then went to pour another. Jasmine reached over and stilled his hand.

"Rick," she began, looking up at him. The leader gave her a rather blank look, before she guided his hand back down to the surface of the table. "You should go upstairs. I'll put this away."

His eyes held her for a moment before they trailed away from her face. Rick nodded, and straightened up... unfortunately, he staggered rather than walked, falling into Jasmine was a grunt. He mumbled an apology. Taking him by the hand, she guided the leader to the stairs, who didn't complain and followed without hesitation. Escorting him carefully down the hallway to his bedroom, Jasmine unlocked the door and helped Rick walk carefully inside.

"Will you be okay for the evening?" she asked, frowning. She hoped he wouldn't wake the group up again like the last time they had all drank. "Would you like me to grab you some water?"

Rick sat down on his bed and shook his head, looking up at her. "Nah, I'll live."

Jasmine studied him for a moment before she finally nodded. The young woman then began to turn, when she was suddenly stopped by Rick's callused hand as it wrapped around her wrist. Jasmine stiffened, feeling her heart cease up and then begin to flutter. What was he trying to pull?

Before she could turn around and ask him, Judith began to whine from her hand-made crib. Rick released her, and she crossed the room with a gentle sigh. Coming to the side of the bed, she reached down and retrieved the child. Jasmine cradled the babe in her arms and hushed her, cooing and making soft noises in order to calm the child. Slowly, she turned, wandering across the hard floor, her body rocking soothingly. With a gentle flick of her head, Jasmine felt her bangs flutter to the side so they didn't simply hang in her eyes.

Slowly, she approached Rick, who stood up and came to meet her in the middle. Unsure of whether he was going to fall over or not, she didn't give him the baby, in case he ended up taking a tumble. Judith would get hurt if her father weren't careful. Rick came close, the smell of alcohol on him. He came so close, in fact, that she could even smell the faint aroma of the lye soap he had used at some point during the day. Judith's father hunched over ever so slightly and reached over, gently brushing her hair with his thumb.

Jasmine, her eyes once upon Judith, turned her gaze up toward her tipsy comrade. Their eyes met, and in the candle light, he swallowed. "Stay," he murmured softly. The leader was close to her that she felt his breath tickle her cheeks. Unsure of what to really do, she remained still. Rick's hand gently curled around her forearm and he leaned in.

Their lips met, and butterflies violently fluttered around inside of her stomach. He tasted like rum, the spicy flavor leaving her dazed as his mouth gently worked against hers. The moment seemed to last forever - she couldn't remember whether she was kissing back or not, but soon his stubble parted with her soft skin, and their lips were no longer caressed. She exhaled, her cheeks on fire, her heart hammering. His dull blue eyes rested upon her own jade orbs, and for a moment, she was at a loss for words.

Clearing her throat, she shut her partially parted lips and her gaze dropped. Jasmine returned Judith to her crib, followed by Rick, who strode up to stand beside her. Again, his strong hand gently snaked it's way around her waist, caressing her side, and she felt him move for her neck. Jasmine, her jaw set and her eyes closing, brushed him off. She felt so overwhelmed in the moment, thinking of how it all felt so wrong. Her eyes began to burn with tears. The young woman silently opened Rick's bedroom door the rest of the way and left the room. The door shut behind her and she turned, abruptly coming to a halt. Daryl's silhouette was just disappearing down the hall.

Once again, she felt her face lose it's pigment. Rushing for the end of the hall, she came to the banister and stared down into the darkness, hoping he would come back. Jasmine desperately wanted to explain herself whether he had seen anything or not. Her heart hammered and she held her breath. Darting for the staircase, she had just made it down three of the wooden stairs when the door slammed shut.

* * *

 **[ Author's Note:] ! I feel really bad for Daryl in this scene. He comes out of his shell and starts blindly acting upon his emotions without really thinking much. This kind of scares Jasmine and so she rejects him, only to piss him off further when he witnesses Jasmine and Rick's little situation. Poor Daryl; he just can't catch a break!**

 **To times in one might, the poor thing. Keep reading to find out what happens next!**


	12. Chapter 12 - You Will Bow

The days flew by. Time ticked on. Rick's group was beginning to warm up to the freckle-faced boy. He would play cards with Carl or Abraham, he would help stack firewood, he'd even play with Judith on the rare occasion. Jasmine, in the meantime, learned how to sew. She stitched up jackets and clothes - anything that needed to be repaired. It was definitely something she could get used to.

Since the whole fiasco between Daryl and Jasmine, the two had stayed far from each other - by god, did Daryl make sure of that. He hardly even looked her way, and when he did, it wouldn't last long. It made her feel a bit uncomfortable, without the reassurance of the archer being there for her to talk to. They had become quite close, and thus she couldn't help but feel guilty when she thought back to how she had reacted to his acts of affection.

Every morning since the fateful night, Jasmine would wake up before the sun was even in the sky, and lay awake, staring at her ceiling as she would listen to Daryl shut his door behind him and head down to the open foyer. He'd most likely grab himself something to eat and then be out the door not long after, off to who knows where. Jasmine would be left with a nervous stomach and a heavy weight upon her shoulders. If only she had been more kind...

He most likely felt like a fool, and if he had witnessed the happenings in Rick's bedroom that night...

He wouldn't be angry, he'd be _livid_.

Jasmine quietly waited for Carol to finish folding the laundry, and headed upstairs to deliver the freshly-washed clothes. Granted, they didn't smell like Bounce, but they were washed. After dropping off everybody's clothes, Jasmine took to the lower level of the lodge. Jude and Maggie were just coming through the door.

"We were going out to find some fish down by the river," Maggie began. "They're slow because of the cold... We were wondering if you maybe would like to tag along.. you seem to be growin' blue being stuck inside all the time." She offered a sincere smile. Jasmine turned her eyes to Jude, her brows raised.

"Sure, why not?" Carol suddenly piped up. The older woman stepped down from the kitchen and into the foyer, bouncing over. "I'll come too.."

Jasmine nodded, shrugging. "I guess I've been volun-told."

The four armed themselves with their weapons and pulled on their jackets, and left with the fishing poles. The fresh air tickled her nose and peppered her cheeks with cool kisses. She missed this; she missed being able to run, being able to taste the winter season. Goosebumps broke out under her turtleneck, but she loved it. Jasmine ran ahead, jogging at a reasonable pace until she was a bit out of breath. She then slowed and allowed the others to catch up. Maggie and Carol were practically beaming, giddy to see her feeling like a child in a candy shop as she felt the crunch of the frosty leaves and the scattered snow beneath her boots.

They made it to the dam, and followed along the bank until they reached a more calm section of the river. They cast their poles and sat down on the cold rocks, patiently waiting for a nibble. In the mean time, Jasmine watched Jude quietly glance around, most likely nervous about being in the open woods. If any danger approached, they would handle it.. she didn't understand why he couldn't just kick back for a bit. The group of four was remaining quiet, and speaking in soft tones in order to keep unwanted attention away. Carl taught Jude how to bait his hook. Surprised by his lack of knowledge about outdoor survival, the group promised to teach him as much as they could while he was with them. Not long after being cast, Jude's pole suddenly stirred, and he grabbed it, surprised, reeling in a decent sized fish. The group congratulated him, and he tossed his catch into the bucket they had brought with them. The group didn't catch many, but they at least caught something. After an hour or so, the group removed their poles from the water and kicked back, watching the sky drift by above the naked canopy. Snow began to fall..

"Nature calls, ladies!" Carol chirruped. Carl and Jude cringed, earning a slew of giggles from Maggie and the other ladies.

"Oh, _get over yourselves_!" Jasmine laughed, shaking her head. "We all do it."

Carol disappeared off into the undergrowth, and Jasmine decided to take to gutting the fish. Rolling up her sleeves, she found herself a flat stone and used Maggie's knife to repeat Daryl's tactic, just as he had taught her. Soon, the fish were being scaled, the scraping sound causing Carl to wander over curiously. Jasmine didn't seem to notice, scales flying everywhere.

"Did Daryl teach you this?" he asked suddenly. Startled, she stopped and took a gentle breath.

"You need a fucking _bell_ , kid!" Jasmine breathed, clasping her chest. Carl seemed quite amused by this, and giggled. Nonetheless, he apologized. Then, he settled down beside the young woman. Carl brought his knees to his chest.

"I like Jude," he remarked suddenly. "Do you?"

Jasmine paused, nibbling at her bottom lip. "Yeah, I think so."

Carl fell silent. "I hope my dad lets him stay... I'm kind of getting sick of girls. Daryl won't take me anywhere, and my dad is always busy..." Jasmine began to zone out as Carl talked her ear off. It was rather distracting though, so she tried her best to both listen and preform scaling the fish.

Suddenly from down the bank, Maggie screamed. Carl and Jasmine practically scrambled up behind the largest boulder possible, staring at each other as they listened to a struggle. Maggie cussed and Jude cried out, and then suddenly a shot rang out. Carl reached down and drew his gun, removing the safety. In the meantime, Jasmine unlatched her own weapons, dropping the hunting knife. She was better in combat with her ronins. Unfamiliar voices filled her ears, two men and a woman's. The sound of scuffling stones came closer.

Suddenly, Carol stormed in, asking questions, only to cry out as she was most likely threatened with a weapon. Carl abruptly exposed himself, racing out from their hiding spot, holding their enemies at gun point. At first, Jasmine thought that it was stupid of him to suddenly throw himself into the thick of it without a plan... but then she began to catch on. He was distracting them. Jasmine, as quietly as she could, she took a few steps back. In the moment, her heart quickened. Daryl wasn't here to help her out of this sticky situation if things went south. Her palms began to sweat now, and she hesitated.

No, she'd show him. She didn't need him all the time, the sonovabitch.

Jasmine, with a burst of pure adrenaline, threw herself up onto the boulder and kicked off, flying into the fray. Carl fired, Jasmine managed to tackle the largest of the men. Taking hold of his hair, she wrenched his head up and held the blade to his throat. Her attention turned up; Carol had a gun to the back of her head, held captive by a tall blonde woman. Carl stood just behind Jasmine, his weapon now on the ground as he was held against the nearest boulder, by a thicker man. Maggie was at her knees, a rifle pointed at her head. The final attacker... stood behind her, holding a heavy rifle of his own. The barrel nudged against the back of her head. "Get this bitch off of me! _Now_!" cried the man beneath her.

"Ge-Get up," ordered a familiar voice.

The impediment in his speech was unmistakable. Jude had lead them to this - he had lead them into the trap. As Jasmine rose and slowly raised her hands, she turned to the red-head. The boy stood with false confidence, his dilute, watery-blue gaze clearly conflicted and full of fear. His flaming hair burned in her memory: she wouldn't forget this. The barrel of the gun suddenly nudged against her chest. As the man was helped up by his closest comrade, Jude happened to glance away, and in that moment - just before she was grabbed and restrained - Jasmine pivoted on one foot, and gracefully rolled her hip, using her leg and foot to knock the gun away.

With the momentum, she landed on her right foot, and the left foot followed it's partner, arching in the air and knocking Jude flat on his face. Satisfaction filled her, until suddenly a shot rang out and all she could feel was excruciating agony. The pain of the bullet cutting through her flesh as it grazed her caused Jasmine to stiffen and cry out. Before she was about to collapse, she was latched onto, her arms wrenched behind her by a strong set of hands, and slammed into the ground.

"How do you like that? Ya fuckin' whore," spat the man, grinding her face against the hard, and rather sharp, stones of the river bank. Carol cried out from behind her, Maggie protesting as well. The two were quickly silenced. The cold burn of the granite stung her face as she was forced down. Her conscious began to waver, watching as her blood began to mingle with the stones, and run slowly into the brook. Slowly, her mind began to cloud over.

A thought came over her...

In the thick of it, Carl had managed to get away from the man holding him at gunpoint and run for the lodge. She laughed silently.

" _Harder_ ," Jasmine rasped. Then, louder, " **Harder, y' sack of shit**!"

Jasmine was lifted off the stones, feeling the open cuts on her right cheek sting in the empty air. There was a sudden dull pain as a gun was smashed over her head, and then a gunshot... just before everything turned black, she managed to catch sight of Carol running for the bushes, hot on Carl's trail.

She smiled.

* * *

 _Unlatch, lock, unlatch, lock, unlatch, lock_... Daryl fiddled with the safety on his crossbow as he strode along the open plateau, and up the hill. It was getting pretty damn cold, so he had to keep his fingers moving, lest they'd become numb and he'd have a hard time drawing his bow. The gentle clicking comforted him in a way. Kept his mind focused on something other than what had been rolling around up there for the past few days. He needed to really get over, he was being such a goddamn pussy about it. Maybe it was time to buck up and just deal with it..

Daryl made it to the top of the hill and swung his crossbow over his shoulder. Judging by the sky, it was late afternoon now. The thick grey clouds leaked heavy drops of sleet. The archer had been out all morning, which surprised him - he hadn't really noticed. A lot of things caught him off guard lately, which wasn't something that was normal for him. Daryl stepped up onto the veranda and opened the door with a heavy swing, stepping inside. Rick and Abraham were standing in the kitchen, having a low conversation, and Glenn was washing a few dishes from breakfast. They hadn't been done? Puzzled, he glanced around the room. For a moment, the archer was tempted to ask where everyone had wandered off to, but he simply continued on his way, earning a side glance from Rick.

Daryl shot him a dirty look, and crossed up to the stairs, heading up to the hall. He made a b-line for the attic stairs, and carried himself up, within moments up in the loft. Michonne and Sasha turned their heads to look at him.

"Any of you seen Carol?" he asked quietly, coming to a standstill before them.

Michonne shook her head.

"I think she went fishing with Jude, Carl and Maggie," Sasha answered, paying no attention to him as she peered through the scope of her rifle. Daryl turned his head, glancing off to the multiple boxes of dry goods.

"And, uh.. Jasmine? She around?" he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. He honestly missed her little face. Michonne looked over at him, giving him a look.

"What?" he asked, rather innocently. The back of his neck burned in shame as he knew, just by looking at Michonne, that she had him under her thumb. She had probably heard from Rick what was going on... he just hoped that Jasmine hadn't said anything. "Jus' wonderin'.."

The archer turned and descended the stairs, heading back down to the kitchen. Once his destination was reached, he placed his crossbow down on the island, which Carol normally told him not to do. _"You'll make everyone sick!"_

Rick and Abraham glanced in his direction in a vague sort of fashion once again, making Daryl feel a bit uncomfortable. "Got somethin' to say?" he challenged, his eyes hovering over the two grown men. His hackles raised and his jaw set, he waited for their bullshit to leak from their lips.

"Uh.. no, I'm sorry," Rick apologized, rather confused and shocked. Daryl turned to Glenn, who had stopped washing. The asian swallowed nervously in the moment, suddenly afraid for his own safety. That's how he liked it... he didn't want to feel as if he were unwelcome in his own group, and ergo, he wanted them to show him respect instead of treating him like an outcast. Thus, he made himself look threatening. Daryl grabbed his crossbow and then hoisted it up over his shoulder.

His free hand balled into a fist, and he could feel his nails dig into his scabbed-over palm. The bandages were useless now to him, given that the wound had healed over. All that seemed to be left was the dying surface of his skin. Admittedly, it was still a bit tender to the touch, and so he favored his hand from time to time. He never pushed himself too far, but sometimes it had to be done. What was a bit of pain gonna hurt? _Nothin_ ' _._ Daryl remained silent, and headed for the door.

From behind him, he heard Rick call for him to wait up, but he pushed the heavy wooden doors, stepping out into the cold. Briskly, he walked across the veranda, only to stop and turn to the leader as he continued to follow after him.

"Somethin' the matter, _coach_?" he inquired rather dryly.

Rick's brows furrowed and his gaze washed over him. "I just wanted to know if somethin's bothering you?" he explained, tilting his head ever so slightly. "You've been gone for days on end with no warning.. It's causing us all some concern."

Daryl felt as if a red flag had gone up in the back of his mind, and instantly cinched his walls shut. "That a problem?"

"It ain't a problem, we're just wondering if there's somethin' wrong that we don't know about." Rick attempted to reach out to him with some sort of funny act, as if he were actually concerned. As if he were some sort of friend to Daryl. Fed up, he began to turn away.

"Listen..." Rick continued. "You've been actin' like some kind of stranger, and I know that Carol and Jasmine don't appreciate it. You two used to always go out in the morning, and now you two hardly look in each other's direction." Daryl swallowed hard but didn't drop Rick's gaze, standing there, glaring over at him as his wick continued to burn. If it weren't put out soon, he'd lose it.. and he was pretty sure that Rick wouldn't appreciate a bloody nose right now. Was he done talking yet?

"Instead, **Jaz** just does things around the lodge, and that's not where she wants to be." Nope. He kept going, and what made it even better... he had never once heard Rick call Jasmine _"Jaz"_ before. That was what Daryl called Jasmine... No one else seemed to feel that it was something they should use when addressing her, so it had become something sort of sentimental, in a way. Little things like that, Daryl didn't seem to notice himself do. Typically he just felt as if it were second nature. He didn't realize how he treated Jasmine differently than others. In fact, he was completely blind to the fact - and at the moment, Rick had just helped him realize how protective he was of her. The sound of the little pet name as it left Rick's mouth caused him to bristle like a threatening animal, his chest locking up.

"And suddenly you know what's right for her?" Daryl retaliated, waving an arm as he gestured toward the scruffy leader. "Y'know what she wants, what she _feels_?!"

Rick looked at him, completely bewildered. "Well, I've been there for her lately... more often than you have, don't you think?"

Daryl let out a snort of amusement. " _That so_?" he sneered. "Tell me why she won't go near y' then..? Y'know, since what happen'd _a couple nights ago_." Rick's eyes flashed as he was suddenly startled by Daryl's words. He curled his lip and tilted his head. For a moment, he smiled and shook his head, and then stepped closer.

"I'm sorry, am I _missing_ something here?" the leader asked, hands on his hips. Daryl fell silent, his gaze never lifting from the other man. The air crackled between the two as Rick began to process what had just been said.

A look of sudden realization took hold of Rick's features. "Were you there?" asked the leader. The energy between them suddenly snapped and Daryl tilted his head up ever so slightly.

"Well, what d'you think?" Daryl shot back, he narrowed his eyes, challenging the other man to say something. The fire burning in him began to burn out as Rick came to grips with the whole situation. He took a step back, his lips parted in shock, and stared down the at the ground with wide eyes. Daryl swung his crossbow off his shoulder and removed the safety. He looked upon Rick for a moment longer, taking a step back, before he turned his body after a few steps, and faced the direction he was walking in. "Happened to see through th' door," he finished. "So much for _brothers_."

Just as he reached the end of the veranda, a whistle rang out. A familiar tenor voice followed, cutting through the open air. " _Dad_!" Daryl felt his heart leap into his throat and watched as Carl came up the side of the hill, running as fast as he could... and he was alone. The two men raced over to the boy.

"Where are the others?!" Rick exclaimed, just as alarmed as Daryl to see he wasn't with the rest of the group. There was a scrape on his jaw and a cut on his lip, crimson bubbling at the surface. Tears filled his eyes, but he remained as composed as he could. He swallowed, attempting to catch his breath, a layer of sweat upon his skin.

"We were ambushed - Jude lead them here, he lied dad. _He lied to us_!"

Rick placed a hand on his shoulder. "Go back in the house with Sasha, she'll bring you up to the loft. Tell her what's goin' on, and make sure that you get your injuries treated." The boy's father hugged his son, then patted him on the shoulder. Carl quickly slipped by Rick and in an instant, Daryl and his brother-in-arms drew their weapons, running for the brush.

"What's goin' on? Rick?" Michonne's voice reached their ears.

"Jude lead the others into a trap, _c'mon_!"

"Son of a cunt!" Abraham cussed, a clear indication that he too, was on his way.

"Maggie said they went to the river!" Glenn was tagging along. Made Daryl feel a bit cheesy in the moment - he was running along side of Rick, almost beating ahead, his heart bellowing in his chest as he ran in the direction of the dam. All he could think of was the blood in Jasmine's teeth as some cheap bastard kicked her down, tearing her clothes. Son of a fuck, if anyone injured her in _**any way**_ -

Daryl's eyes burned into the path that laid ahead. With one quick glance, he caught sight of the run-down undergrowth he usually followed in order to take a shortcut to the bank, and veered in that direction. Judging by the sound of the brush crackling behind him, he was being followed.

Fueled by complete rage and utter fear, the group of four soared over logs and pushed through the bushes, coming to the sharp overhang just near the edge of the bank - and coming to a stop. Daryl and Rick instantly raised their weapons, Michonne drawing her sword, Glenn and Abraham flanking the trio in case of any people who had managed to hunker down before they had arrived revealed themselves. Daryl jumped off the escarpment and with a clacking sound, down upon the river bank. He eyed the disturbed rocks and the rather suspicious dark liquid coating the surface. The area was secure, and unfortunately, there was no one to be seen. Rick let out a cuss of anger and with a swinging kick, drove his steel-toed boot straight into the rocky riverside.

Freeing his right mit from his crossbow, he allowed it to drop to his side, pointing at the ground. Daryl began to panic. He ran his hand up into his hair and clenched his scalp. Dread took hold of him, waves of fear washing over him like that of the tide on the bay. Turning, his hand fell loosely, and he looked up at the sky as if looking for an answer. Daryl shouldn't have left her alone, it was all his fault. He hadn't been there to go along - maybe if he had been.. maybe Carol, Maggie, Jasmine - they'd be safe right now, in the lodge.

Denial set in and he began to search for any source he could use in order to track the group that had taken his allies. Rick watched him, completely grief-struck, accepting that it was too late and that they were lost.

"We can't just stand here," Michonne piped up as she approached Rick. Their conversation was drained away, into the babbling of the river as he walked through the shallow depths, his ears straining. Soft breaths and hiccups caught his attention, and his head swung around. From a large group of rocks and boulders, not far away from where he stood - he heard sobbing.

Daryl instantly cried out to the others and ran to the source of the sound. Rounding the corner, he was relieved to suddenly see the sight of a very damp, very frightened Carol. She rushed into his arms and he held her tight, hushing her and stroking the back of her hair.

Rick quickly followed in suit.

"Maggie - J-Ja-Jasm-m..." stammered Carol. Her brow was cut and bleeding, her hair a tangled mess, her shirt and knees wet from the frigid water, her pant-leg torn. She hiccuped and clutched Daryl's shirt.

" _Slow down_ , we know about what Jude did..." Rick soothed, pressing his hand to the side of her face. Daryl set his crossbow on the stony brook bank and swung off his jacket. He offered it to Carol, who bundled herself into it, shivering as the warmth that the jacket had taken on enveloped her. Daryl felt the heavy freezing rain chew at his skin... but he hardly noticed: Daryl was so pissed off that he felt as if he were on fire.

"Who took them?" asked Michonne.

"Is Maggie okay?" Glenn fretted, panting from the exertion of the run.

Carol took a moment and swallowed, calming down first before explaining what had happened as best she could. "We were surrounded, taken hostage.. Jasmine managed to distract them while Carl and I freed ourselves. I've never seen her fight like that before - not ever, I don't think." Her pale green eyes fluttered and she sniffled, looking up at the archer. "She... she got _shot_.. though.." Daryl stiffened and the group exchanged looks of dread. "They knocked her unconscious, and took her and M-Maggie.."

Carol shivered against Daryl, who held her tighter.

"We've gotta find them.." Abraham insisted.

"There are too many of them - what if we lose more people while fighting?"

Everyone gawked at Rick. He was thinking of Judith and Carl more than ever right now, and thus the words coming out of his mouth didn't make sense.

"That's _Maggie_ and _Jasmine_ out there," Daryl remarked dryly. "Y' don't think they're worth th' _risk_?" The two held each other in their sights for a long while, electricity in the air, before Rick turned his head down in order to think.

He finally spoke up. "We need some time to figure out a plan... until then, we'll send out only a few people at a time to scout around for a possible location."

Carol relaxed in his arms as he agreed, and the group nodded along with each other. Kneeling alongside their leader, Glenn, Abraham, Carol, Daryl and Michonne all discussed a plan to possible return their family members. They didn't speak long, for Rick wanted to return to the lodge in order to regroup and get the other's opinions on the situation.. and most importantly, to make sure Carol and Carl both got the attention they needed. Daryl hung back, and secretly began following the tracks down through the woods.

He wasn't going to wait for Rick if he was just going to be a pansy-assed bitch about it.

* * *

Jasmine opened her eyes, and gasped for air. She sat straight up in the hospital bed, and turned her head to face the open window. The drapes fluttered in the cold winter breeze that sang into the room. It took her a moment to process what was going on... A dull pain pulsed beneath her shirt. Jasmine was still in her clothes from before she had been knocked unconscious, a tear in her turtleneck from where the bullet had chewed through. The cut was stitched up, thankfully, and cleaned. Her clothes were dry... which meant she had been out for at least twenty to thirty minutes. The scrapes on her eyebrow, cheek and jaw were covered in bandages.

Jasmine stepped out of bed on rather unsure feet. At first, her head was whirling, light-headed and all over the place. The young woman saw spots before her very eyes and stumbled, only to catch herself on the night table. The lamp wobbled, the light flickering at first. She gawked suddenly at the glowing bulb. Electricity... Jasmine was in a place with electricity. The room smelled softly of sage, as if someone had come in and cleansed the room in some sort of spiritual ritual. Feeling a bit ill from the smell, she attempted to ignore it. No wonder her window was open.

The young woman took to the door, her boots neatly set up on a mat not far from it. Slipping them on and tying them tight, she rose and felt for her ronins... they were gone, along with their sheathes. With a frustrated grit of her teeth, she decided to attempt to pick the lock. Just before she could get to the door, it swung open. In stepped a rather familiar man, his nose stuffed with gauze, bruised on the bridge of his honker and on the rim of his eye. He glared at her, and shuffled in, followed by the woman with short blonde hair. The two looked to be married, both on the thicker side, wearing clean clothes.

"I see you've woken up," the woman said gently. Jasmine stood there, her shoulder squared like an angry animal, her jade depths burning into the woman. "How are you feeling?"

"You hit me in the head, you shot me... how do you _think_ I feel?" Jasmine hissed.

Silent for a moment, the woman opened her mouth to say something, but then shut it. She exchanged glances with her bruised husband. "Are you hungry?" she asked. Again, with the questions. Jasmine remained still and silent.

"My name is Emily. You can call me Emma for short..." said the woman. "I'm sorry for injuring you... but you were just out of control. You've been out there with those wild people." Jasmine's eyes flashed.

 _Wild_? Oh, she could show her wild. _Come a little closer, bitch. I fucking dare you_ , she thought. Jasmine's shoulder stiffened. Damnit, she was beginning to sound like Daryl... Glancing around the room, she allowed her fists to unclasp.

"Okay, _Emma_ ," Jasmine sneered. "Where the fucking am I? Where are my people?" She eyed the two, specifically the threatening looking man. He was giving her a look hard enough to knock someone over. He was probably still sore from when she had pinned him down. Come to think of it, the man was the one who hit her with the butt of his gun and pressed her face into the ground. Anger began to boil in her stomach.

"Your people are all safe back at their home. We only have one - the one who managed to get back to your camp," replied Emma. Her voice was irritating, but she was beginning to ease up a bit.

"Is she safe?" she asked, her eyes still shooting daggers.

Emma nodded. "Isn't that right, Ronnie?" The woman turned to her husband. He continued his grumpy grumbling, but then answered. "Yeah. Right as rain."

"We can bring you to her, if you'd like." Emma gave a smile that Jasmine wanted to slap right off of her stupid plump face. She decided against it, as she could possibly find Maggie and escape. They had to get out, before something happened, and warn the rest of the group - just in case Carl hadn't made it, and they had him too.. just in case they were a rotten bunch. Jasmine nodded, relaxing her body.

Just as the group were about to leave, someone walked in, shocking her to the core. Her heart exploded in her chest, and she lost all feeling in her limbs. It was like seeing a ghost...

Her brother stood before her, just as shocked as she was. The gentleman stood at six foot, his raven hair long and pulled back in a small ponytail. His face was unshaven, giving him a much older look. Nonetheless, he was well-groomed, and healthy in appearance. Jasmine stumbled back a bit, her head suddenly foggy once again.

Once recomposed, she gawked at him. "B-Blake?" she astonished. Blake rushed her, pushing past Emma and embracing her. He picked her up and swung her around, hooting like a banshee. Jasmine was surprised by this at first, completely unsure as to whether it was real or not. Set back on her feet, she looked up at her older brother, feeling her throat tighten. She suddenly gave him a hard punch in the chest, knocking the wind out of him.

"Where the fuck have you been?" She boiled over, tears brimming in her eyes, dampening her cheeks. "You piece of shit, _you left me all alone_!" Blake seemed almost shocked by her reaction. Jasmine had changed not only in her mannerisms, but as a person. She was tough, strong, witty - no long sweet and innocent and forgiving.

"Easy, _easy sis_!" he chuckled. Jasmine began to weakly beat at his chest. "Don't hurt yourself any further - you've already been injured. C'mon sis!" Soon, she was a whimpering mess in his arms, and he soothed her. After a moment to recompose herself, they joined with the rest of the group. Jasmine was now quiet and no longer reacted like a hostile wolf.

Blake proceeded to explain to her why he had left her in the storage closet. He had ran, thinking it would draw away the walkers... he knew he wouldn't survive, but then like his guardian angel, his leader came and saved him. He had never looked back, and had honestly thought that she was dead. Blake had been given medical attention for his broken wrist, and now it worked perfect, as he demonstrated for her. Her older brother was still as goofy as ever, still as friendly and light-hearted... as if nothing had happened - as if the world hadn't ended and all order had become chaos. He eventually ended up asking her how she survived. A bit hesitant at first, she told him that she'd explain to him once they were alone. Blake understood, and of course didn't prod any further. Jasmine didn't want to possibly give away any information that could be used against her family. Right now, she was focused on finding Maggie. Eventually, they came to the lowest floor, and found her room.

"Jasmine!" Maggie instantly cried. The two rushed over and embraced, a mess of relief. The other woman appeared to be unscathed, simply shaken. Jasmine felt a bit more safe as she listened to how she had drank real orange juice. The thought made her mouth water. She was offered a glass, which she drank hesitantly at first... but she soon drank it in long, savoring swallows. She was thirsty, and the beautiful taste of the fruit was like heaven on earth. Honestly, she missed honey and peanut butter.

Soon, Blake, Maggie and Jasmine were left alone.

Maggie was quiet at first, but she eventually introduced herself.

"She's one of the woman in my group.. her family survived an attack on the last place they had - a prison, miles from here," she explained. Blake, settled in his chair, frowned.

"How'd you all get there?" he inquired, completely skeptical.

"We all traveled on foot. Slept in a camp outdoors, cans surrounding it in case any walkers came up," Maggie answered. "It'd wake everyone up and we'd fight 'em off, burn them in the morning, and keep moving."

"Woah... so you folks all walked up here?"

Jasmine and Maggie nodded, and Blake shook his head, completely flabbergasted. There was a moment of silence, before he spoke again.

"We've been watching since we found you and that fellow with the crossbow." Jasmine's eyes widened in shock. So it had been them... Images of the man wearing the mask of skin flashed through her mind, and she found her hands traveling to her throat. Maggie eyed her, and reached over, rubbing her shoulder.

"You're lucky we found you..." Blake astonished.

"We were actually doing well - better than we had been before, that's for sure.." Maggie remarked, before giving him a look. "Although, granted, we don't have electricity..."

Jasmine glanced around the room and swallowed gently. Why would Jude have wanted to get away from this? It was all they could ever ask for... although, with Woodbury and the prison raid, they had good reason not to trust anyone. Maybe this group had been through something worse and simply wanted to save them from... whatever that thing had been: the thing from Alexandria.

"Why don't I take you two off to get ready for tonight's feast?" Blake said suddenly, clapping his hands and rising to his feet. Maggie and Jasmine rose side by side, and followed after him. "Maggie, was it? You'll be going with Ethan here. He'll take you to one of our dressing rooms." Blake gestured to a slender young man with a scar across his neck. It looked eerily similar to that of Jude's, but given that she only happened to catch it at a glance, Jasmine didn't have time to think about it. Maggie gave her hand a squeeze, they exchanged looks, and then they parted.

It was only a quick glimpse, and Jasmine wasn't sure how she felt about the boy's previous wound, but she had to have confidence in her older brother. He would keep her safe. She couldn't deny it though.. something didn't feel right. It was like the instinct in the back of her mind was gnawing at a bone, the flavor of said bone something she couldn't quite identify. She trusted her brother, she really did. He had been the one to save her time and time again, but now... now that she had seen what he was capable of doing - what kind of power he had in his back pocket - she was honestly wary. Swallowing nervously, she wondered whether Daryl had returned, and whether he were concerned or not. The whole group would be looking, yes... but she hadn't seen Daryl since the evening before, when he had been chopping wood, ignoring her presence as she watched from a distance away. Judith had been playing with her shoelaces.

The reminder of the small tod suddenly motivated her to tell Blake about her, but she wasn't able to get even two words out of her mouth, before the hallways became clean and polished. Doors to an unknown room opened and she was suddenly shocked to see lavish clothes and accessories, waiting for her. Blake guided her to the closet and he opened up the sliding door, revealing dresses galore. Jasmine's jaw dropped and she stepped back. **Woah**. She hadn't seen such pretty things since forever ago, before the apocalypse and the fall of society as she knew it.

"How about this one?" suggested Blake, taking out a soft gown, the color of pale mint. The dress was sleek and tousled, with a pencil skirt, long sleeves and a bow neck. Jasmine eyed it, and hesitantly reached forward, feeling the soft material. For a moment, she graciously took the dress from her brother and found the closest mirror, laying it against her casual clothes - the clothes she had survived in. The color screamed out at her, and she blinked her vibrant jade eyes. In the moment, she could have sworn she felt Daryl hovering behind her. Her gaze drifted to the left of her, eyeing the mirror's reflection, and for a split second, she could have sworn she saw Daryl leaning back against the back wall near the door. He did not open her mouth, yet she could hear him speak; his hand rested upon the strap of his crossbow, and he was looking at her with almost curious, thoughtful, calculating... and yet somehow solemn shale-blue eyes.

 ** _"I'm not used to you lookin' like this.."_**

Jasmine stepped back and spun around, looking over in that direction for a moment as she felt the thrill of surprise flutter around in her belly. She was disappointed to lay eyes upon an empty wall. Not wanting Blake to question her, Jasmine turned to her brother with a shake of her head. "Uh.. frilly things aren't really my thing anymore," she apologized, giving him a sheepish grin. Shrugging, she cringed as she looked down at the dress in her hands. "I'm a more grit and grime kinda girl." Returning the dress to him, Jasmine cast her hands behind her back, and shyly bit her lip.

There was a pause as Blake looked her over, a rather solemn smile on his face. "I guess you've just changed... Your hair is short," he remarked, looking her over. He came closer and studied her further. "You look older than you did before - but I guess it's cuz you aren't wearing those pencil skirts and blouses... and you look sorta like a boy." Unimpressed by his remark, she gave him a shove. Blake let out a chortle and danced away playfully, like a suddenly giddy cat would. He then turned and retrieved something from the dresser table. It was like something out of a Hollywood set. As he returned, he offered her a small powder case. Opening it, she was met with a dark, charcoal-like powder.

"It's for your eyes," Blake explained. "We all wear it, it makes your eyes pop - Fallon thinks it helps widen the gates to your soul or something."

There was that name, Fallon. Jasmine looked up at him, noting that as he applied the dust, it caused his tawny eyes to come alive. Hesitant at first, she looked at her irises in the small compact mirror. Jasmine eventually followed in suit, and before she knew it, her jade eyes were electric. She looked as if she had two good ol' shiners, but her eyes looked fairly bright. Jasmine carefully ran her fingers up through her hair, and then looked over at her brother, who gave her a once-over. He clapped his hands and Jasmine curtsied.

The two then returned to the hallway. As they traveled down a flight of stairs, they were brought to a massive set of doors.

"Now, be respectful, and don't question anything," Blake reminded her. Jasmine nodded, nervously swallowing. "People will look a little strange here... okay? Oh, and one more thing - you need to _bow_ before Fallon."

The idea caused a cold drop of fear to run down her spine. Daryl had always taught her never to bow to anyone, and thus the thought caused her great alarm. She looked up at Blake with a look of distaste, who gave her a hard gaze of amber. Upon noticing her hesitation, her brother leaned over her shoulder, gripping her arm.

"Now remember.. You must bow," he murmured. Her eyes widened. Jasmine wasn't ready and Blake was scaring her. " _You will._ "

Composing herself, she straightened her shoulders and swallowed hard. Blake knocked, and the two waited as the silence droned on. There was the loud sound of the handles turning, echoing through the cavernous halls. The doors opened, and everything was suddenly engulfed in light.

* * *

[ **Author's Note:** ] **This is a great loss for the group. Just months after their celebration, the group is thrust back into the fray as a new threat arises. The distance between Daryl and Jasmine has lead to her demise, and now he has to grasp the fact that he may never see her, nor Maggie again.**

 **Like what happened with Beth, he blames himself. Now he thinks that this is happening all over again, and it's beginning to drive him insane.**

 **Jasmine is really beginning to mirror her tutor's behavior and mannerisms. Her nature has gone from serene and elegant in the beginning, to more confident and adventurous... to downright aggressive and bitter. This reflects Daryl's way of handling a situation like this; it isn't easy at all for him. He's always questioning and lashing out at those he doesn't know or trust instead of remaining calm.**

 **Keep reading to find out Jasmine's fate.**


	13. Chapter 13 - Beguile

There was food _everywhere_. Jasmine was completely astounded by the amount of food, lining the tables. A massive chandelier hung from the soaring ceiling above, warm firelight dancing around the enormous room. Clumps of people sat at the rows of tables, all surrounding a space cleared for entertainment. One man in particular suddenly created a fine spray of liquid that caught fire, startling Jasmine. She stumbled back into Blake, he gently removed his grasp from her upper arm, down to the middle of her back.

There was music, and so many smells. A man played a violin above the chatter of people, the sound almost alien to her ears. Her emerald eyes widened in awe, washing over her surroundings as if she was witnessing a miracle from God. Was He even possible? Maybe within these walls, but outside - that was completely impossible. Jasmine swallowed nervously as the crowds parted, eyeing her. Some were curious, others were shocked. Everybody wore casual clothes, some finer than others, all with their own style... but none of them looked like a survivor like her. None. The stitched grace upon her shoulder was suddenly more sore, and Jasmine suddenly became self-conscious as women eyed her wound.

They finally came to a rather tall throne. It was built for a king, settled between two of the tables. As she laid eyes upon who was settled upon it, she practically gawked - swallowing hard. She began to sweat nervously. A rather small woman sat, her legs leisurely crossed with one over the other. Her face was covered by a rather avian-like mask of metal, the piece of titanium running down her nose marking the end of the accessory. The sides of the flashy mask splayed out in, again, something similar to that of a bird's wings. Sharp slits made it easier for her to see, most likely, but unfortunately Jasmine couldn't make out her eyes from behind the mask.

She was breath-taking; dressed in a leather-clad avant long-coat, her raven hair visibly tumbling out over her shoulders from beneath her hood . The small woman rose from where she sat, earning a hush over the room. She stepped down off the throne and onto the same level as Jasmine. With two-inch heels upon her boots, it was clear that she was smaller than the new-comer.

"Welcome." Her voice was strong, giving her authority. Jasmine looked over the woman, confused as to why she kept herself concealed... after taking on this fucked up world for so long, she had learned that people hid things for a reason, which caused her to become suspicious. "Jasmine, I assume?" the woman inquired. Balling her fists, she nervously swallowed, and nodded. The woman gestured suddenly, and Blake stepped up beside her. She then turned her attention back over to Jasmine.

Exchanging an unsure glance with her brother, he gave her a rather hard look, which she took as her signal to do as he had told her to. Jasmine knelt and bowed her head. There was a moment of silence, before the leader's heels clicked, signalling that she was approaching. Jasmine watched as she stepped close, suddenly becoming apprehensive. Before she knew it, the woman had cast her fingers beneath her chin. Her green eyes turned up toward her, watching the light reflect off her mask.

"Welcome to Hatchback Grove," the woman began. "My name.. is Fallon. Of course, you may already know this, thanks to our lovely little friend, Jude." Fallon allowed her to remain with her head up, and thus she watched her carefully. "I hope you didn't take anything he said to heart - he is a compulsive liar, always causing _trouble_!" Suddenly, Jasmine felt the gnawing instinct in the pit of her stomach skyrocket up into her chest, latching onto her heart.. She didn't like where this was going..

"Do not worry about Jude, my dear - he'll be back on his medication soon enough..." The crowd let out little snickers or hoots of agreement. Their leader stepped away from her, turning in a circle and marveling at her surroundings. A sigh of happiness escaped Fallon. "I am so relieved that we could have brought you here... this is such a magnificent place, Jasmine. Everyone is safe, so you never have to touch another weapon again. You get to live your life how you choose - within reason, of course - and you'll never have to go hungry or cold again. You finally get to sleep in a comfortable bed, have clean clothes, bathe... Anything you desire!" The kneeling femme glanced over at Blake, who stood at attention with his hands cast behind his back, his chest puffed out and a proud smile upon his face.

"You can grow your hair out," Fallon continued. "You can live a _normal life_ \- you no longer have to touch a single weapon, ever again." Things were beginning to sound too good to be true, but Jasmine prayed that this would be their sanctuary.

"So, the others - they can all come here too?" she asked. Fallon paused, and then looked to Blake, as if confused. Then she burst out into laughter, the room joining in with their own little chuckles here and there. "My dear, do you really think that we would allowed them to _stay_ within _our_ walls?"

Jasmine felt her gut clench as she listened to Fallon.

"But... but they were my people. Without them-"

"Jasmine, my dove... your group had been outside for _far too long_. They've lost their ability to be civil and follow rules. They've killed too many."

"But-"

"They could become a danger to our people. They're _reckless_ , they don't think clearly. They're _**tainted**_. If they don't like our way of living, then whose to say that they won't attempt to perhaps destroy our civilization?"

Appalled, Jasmine's expression slowly crumpled from hopeful and willing, to that of sour disapproval. This wasn't what she wanted... not if her people were going to be discriminated against.. "From what I was told, your friends aren't a particularly happy bunch... I think of many reasons. That fellow with the crossbow - what was his name?"

Jasmine was becoming irritated by the way she was speaking. " _Daryl_."

"Ah, that's it. _Dreadful_ ," Fallon said, rather cruelly. The woman before her curled her lip in disgust. "They had _children_ around that man. What if they had grown up to be like him? Threatening others when they simply wish to reach out. And their _father_ isn't the best role-model either..."

Jasmine closed her eyes and shook her head. Rising to her feet, she earned a sudden tension and a few gasps. She had stood without being invited... and the feeling was glorious. "Miss, I don't mean to be rude... but the group I am with are _delightful_ people," she countered. "If you're simply going to insult those who have become my family then I have no trouble with walking right out the door. Just because they haven't lived a soft life within four walls like you have, doesn't make them a lower species... They are people."

There was a long moment of silence as she stood there, her lips parted slightly in surprise, before she said, "Oh! _Well_!" Her tone was rather chipper for a great leader who had just been shut down. "I'm sorry, for I was mistaken." Blake in the meantime, shot daggers in her direction. Rage flashed behind his eyes. Jasmine pretended to have confidence, as she felt herself lose all faith in herself.

"Well, no worries..." Fallon continued. She raised her hands in a rather dainty manner. It was so ditsy, she hated it. Jasmine had to hold back a retort that commonly Daryl used to make about her - back when she was sweet and fragile. "Perhaps they could come here some day.."

"Let us eat!" Blake suddenly announced, clapping his hands. The room bellowed suddenly, cheers bouncing off the walls. It all seemed so fabricated, as if nothing here were real. Frankly, Jasmine was beginning to feel trapped. She needed out, but was afraid that she might cause a fuss. She was grateful for the hospitality, but Maggie and her really needed to scoot.

 **Maggie**. Maggie, where was _Maggie_? Blake said she'd be there. Turning to her brother in a panic, she stormed over to him and looked up into his face, searching for an answer.

"Blake, where's Maggie?"

Fallon piped up, a frown upon her maw. "The girl? She was taken to the place she belongs.. I thought you knew?" She turned her eyes to Blake in confusion.

Jasmine was horrified. "The _what_?!" she exclaimed. The chatter in the room was deafening. Blake was suddenly glaring over at her, merely appearing to be the man she had once known. "This is your _home_ now. These are your people... you can't leave. Not after I finally found you."

She stumbled back, itching to escape - to go back to the lodge, to see Carol and Rick, Michonne, Glenn; Carl, little Judith, Sasha, Abraham, and Daryl. Jasmine found herself colliding with a gentleman, his back to her. He turned to the femme, the drink he had been holding spilled all down his front. From behind the man, peered a rather meek Maggie Rhee. Jasmine, shocked, looked upon her as she held up a tray of glasses, wearing a set of ratty, dirty clothes. There were bruises around her wrists, and a bruise on her cheekbone. " _Jasmine_?" Her eyes were full of fear.

Jasmine stumbled away again, grabbing for the open air, nearly stumbling into person after person. What was going on? Why was Maggie being used like she was some sort of servant? Jasmine turned away, completely overwhelmed. After a few final shambling steps, she found herself falling to her knees before Fallon, who looked upon her from behind the titanium mask upon her face. She was smiling. "Oh, I see you've met our new _pet_ ," Fallon chided.

 _ **What is this place?**_

* * *

Fuck, it was cold. Daryl couldn't feel his fingers. "Shouldn't we tell the others about what we're doing?" Glenn asked, rather nervous about keeping things from Rick. He ignored him, kneeling as he found yet another set of tire tracks. Standing up straight, he rolled his shoulders, attempting to warm his limbs. The rain had become liquid once more, and fell in a sort of mist, drenching the two men as they searched for possible clues as to where their group members had gone.

"We really shouldn't be doing this..." Glenn fretted again. Daryl came to a sudden halt, and shot him a glare. Silence ensued as they stood there, completely soaked, and chilled to the bone. Maybe it was time to head back for the night. They were pretty far out - by time they'd returned, Rick would have noticed.

 _Yeah, well, fuck him_ , Daryl thought.

"Okay... ' _We gotta do more than just sit on our asses_ '," Glenn began. "I know that, _I know_ \- I just don't think we should do this without Rick and the others." He walked up beside Daryl, who squared his shoulders, holding his crossbow still. His eyes were as cold as the winter wind, cutting into Glenn. "I don't know what happened between you and Rick, but you've gotta just relax. If this continues, you'll just end up fighting with him all the time - and then nothing will get accomplished." Daryl listened carefully, and finally, his gaze dropped, his face turning away. He gave up... The kid had a point.

"You can't just let your anger get the better of you. You aren't thinking this through. I know you're pissed that Jasmine was taken - I am too, and I don't wanna see you lose your drive to save her and Maggie... but if we just charge into this blindly, we might lose them." The hush of the rain filled the air. There was a long, long pause.

"Should I dumb it down for you?"

"You're right," Daryl finally mumbled. "But I ain't just gonna s-"

" _Sit on your ass_ , right." Glenn smirked, and Daryl couldn't help but crack a smile of his own. Shaking his head, the two turned on their heels and retraced their steps.

The archer raised his cranium, eyeing Glenn. "You know, you Asians are pretty smart," Daryl remarked, earning a weak shove from the Korean.

" _Asshat_."

* * *

They returned, and Daryl felt almost... _exposed_.. as he climbed up onto the veranda. The doors opened and Daryl came to a stop, completely sopping wet. The rest of the group was just finishing dinner. The conversation they were having was interrupted and thus everyone's attention ended up moving to the newcomers. Glenn followed close behind Daryl, beginning to tug off his boots and his coat. Daryl, on the other hand, simply wiped off his shoes and stepped inside. Carol rose and crossed over to him. Her arms were crossed over one another, hugging herself as if the mere sight of him gave her the chills. Her green eyes begged him to give her some good news, but he looked away, the pain too great to handle. He hated disappointing Carol.

"Anythin'?" Rick piped up. So, they knew. _Of course._

"Nothin'. Not a goddamn thing.." he replied, turning and running a nervous hand up through his tangled bangs. Carol wilted before him, and Daryl removed his fingers from his hair. Turning and resting one hand upon his hip, his other fell loosely at his side. Shaking his head, he took to the kitchen, and leaned forward against the island. His eyes traced the marble surface's design. If all signs were pointing toward southwest, it was their best shot - but then again, it would be dangerous just to assume that that was directly where the camp (or whatever) laid.

"We can't give up. Maggie and Jasmine mean a lot to all of us," Glenn began. His voice was strong, and he was clearly confident. "They always calmed down Judith, they always helped with everything they could. Maggie has been with us since Hershel's, since the prison, since Terminus, since Alexandria. And Jasmine has done just as much, even if she has only been with us for a few months. She has earned her spot, I'm sure we can all agree on that."

"You're right..." Rick replied. His gaze washed over the members of his group. "..but we need to stop and think first. I can't put our family in danger unless I know that we have a proper plan. We don't even know where they were taken - Jude didn't give us any information."

The entire posse shrank in disappointment, understanding that their leader was right. Daryl even did, despite his growing bitterness toward Rick.

"Actually..." Rick's son suddenly spoke up. He was nervously looking at his father, who peered at him with mild confusion. "I know a way to his camp that he told me about... we... we snuck out late at night, and he showed me it, in case we needed to get help. Or so he said..." Carl's head dropped. Daryl turned his head to look over at the boy with such vigor that he practically broke his neck. "I'm sorry for not saying anything earlier."

Despite being upset that Carl hadn't told them sooner, he quietly crossed over to the group and hovered behind Abraham's chair. The fire was warm and bright - he had almost missed it. This was the first time in a long while that he had actually joined everyone around the fireplace. He gently grasped the strap of his crossbow, almost as if for reassurance. "Well, where is it?" asked Daryl. Carl looked up.

"Yeah, we can start looking in the morning," Carol added.

The boy appeared overwhelmed and looked to his father. With a nod of confirmation, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a yellowing sheet of paper. It was ratty and torn here and there, but it clearly showed a set of trails that were marked over in red. "His group gave him this _map_ in case he strayed too far.. Jude gave it to me when we were climbing up the cliff and told me not to lose it - I guess I forgot to give it back."

"Do you think that he was maybe trying to stop this? Maybe he wanted us to have the map, in case Fallon did find us and we needed to find our way back if we escaped..." Michonne began, studying the map with keen eyes.

"Or maybe he just didn't want to be the one burdened with the only way back..." Rick added, warily glancing over at the raven beauty.

Glenn leaned over and placed his face in his hands, clearly becoming overwhelmed by the moment. "I don't give a shit what Jude's intentions were... right now, Maggie and Jasmine could be hurt or maybe even worse." Daryl studied the young man.

"Yeah, me neither," he agreed. The Korean turned his head up to look at Daryl, who held his gaze for a little while, before giving him a gentle, subtle nod. His shale-blue gaze shifted back to the rest of the pack. "He'd better pray that I don't find him."

"Well, then I guess it's settled.. we'll head out at first light and start following the map. All those for?" Rick inquired. The entire group raised their hands. "All opposed?" There was little to no movement. With a nod of his head, it was official. It was time to prepare for a possible battle, but they had nothing left to lose. They couldn't risk their people being left behind.

The posse began to sort out their plans, brain storming and suggesting ideas off the top of their heads. Sasha was first to point out the obvious. "We can definitely sneak in, although if we're caught we may not have enough ammunition and manpower to get out alive."

"I'm sure we can take the chance," Abraham remarked. "I mean, Michonne and Daryl can get in anywhere, Carol and Carl are small and quick, and we have Glenn and Rick to lead."

"Daryl and I can lead... Glenn can help Michonne get us in - he's best when it comes to stealth," Rick interjected. Daryl's gaze quickly fell upon the leader, a bit shocked by Rick's inclination to work with him. _'Guess we have to overlook this for now anyway,_ he thought, glancing over at Glenn and recalling his lesson. _If we keep up this bullshit, we'll end up losin' Maggie and Jaz._

Deciding it was time to join them completely - to let those around him acknowledge his existence, he settled down in the chair next to Carol. This wasn't his usual spot- he tended to stick to the end of the ring, near the hearth-side. Jasmine would sit either at his feet or to his right, and they would always join in with the conversations that took place. Realization hit him like a goddamn _train_ \- he felt the warmth of the memories ebb and then snuff out, as if she were suddenly gone.. The pull to that specific seat was too great. Daryl turned his attention away from it and gazed over into the crackling hearth. Perhaps if he hadn't have pushed her away, and let her out of his sight... maybe then, at that moment, he would be able to see her face. Perhaps then she'd be safe. His gaze darkened and he tilted his head down, beginning to gently scrape his nails over the base of his wrist. Slowly, he began to apply pressure. As his nails glided across his skin, the familiar burning sensation of dull pain arose. This distracted himself from his thoughts, while simultaneously punishing himself for what he had done.

Daryl wrinkled his nose as he felt the sensation become fairly strong. It was now all he could think of; thoughts of self-hatred buzzed around in his head, creating a sort of fog in his mind as his own better judgement was drowned out. He needed this, he deserved this-

Carol's hand found his, stilling the archer's roaming mitt. Daryl turned his attention up toward the miss, and was met with a look of dismay, her slender fingers gripping the back of his hand tightly. She didn't draw attention to him thankfully, for the group was still in the middle of the conversation. He was unsure of as to how long he had been scratching. Fortunately, she had stopped him just before he had drawn enough blood for others to notice. Daryl held her gaze, his heart sinking as he realized just how worried she looked. He then allowed his eyes to drop, and looked down at what he had managed to do to himself: his skin was raw, swelling around multiple lengthy gashes that gleamed with fresh crimson.

"Daryl..." she uttered softly. Daryl blinked and cleared his throat.

" _It's nothin_ '," he replied. The archer rose to his feet, followed in suit by his concerned pursuer. Eyes followed him - he felt them - as he made for the exit. They made it to the door and out onto the veranda, before Carol grabbed hold of his hand, turned him, and gazed upon his wounds. "They're shallow. I'll live.." They stung as she gently ran her fingers over them, causing him to wrinkle his nose, and flinch ever so softly. "It ain't anythin' worth fussin' about.."

With a sudden swing, Carol struck him across the face with an open palm... just as Jasmine had the morning after the incident with the arrow. He was surprised: Carol of all people, the woman who had been abused for years had just laid her hands on someone in order to prove... whatever she was attempting to prove. Daryl finally turned his head, his eyes falling upon her face. Tears gathered in her eyes, but she held her ground... Guilt overwhelmed Daryl and his eyes dropped.

"I just.." His voice broke off, he was at a loss for words.

Suddenly, Carol embraced him. Once again, as he was on multiple occasions, he was surprised by the sudden physical contact. Daryl was held so tightly in the moment, that he could have sworn that Carol's heart was joining her dainty frame as it pressed to his heavy chest. Swallowing hard, he fought back his own tears, feeling her body tremble as she sobbed.

"It isn't your fault - _none of this is_. What happened to _Beth_ isn't your fault, and as for Maggie and Jasmine..." Carol trailed off, speaking softly. Her breath tickled the nape of his neck as she spoke. "I can't stop you from thinking the things you do, nor can I force you to open up to me about what goes on in your head..." Her voice was so thick with emotion that it was beginning to rub off on him. He leaned into her and wrapped his arms around her slender frame, embracing her just as tightly as she did him. Daryl buried his nose into her shoulder and stared off toward the side of the lodge - off toward the trees.

"Just please don't feel as though you have to _hurt_ yourself in order to cope..." Carol finished, hiccuping softly. With a huge gulp of air, she let out a few more sobs. Daryl felt his eyes begin to burn as tears began to form, swimming for the edge of his ocean eyes. He held it in as best he could, stubborn to keep his pride in check... but was unsuccessful. He began to gently sob as well.

 _Damnit Carol..._ he thought. The two held each other until they were both a mess. Carol pulled away and cupped his face in her hands. Her gaze leering up at him as she took in the canvas of emotion he was expressing. Daryl had given in, and was breathing in labored pants, swallowing as he was attempting to recompose himself.

"You find that girl... you find both of them," Carol ordered, her voice weak and wavering. "And when you find them and they're back here, safe and sound... you tell Jasmine how you feel."

Daryl felt as if he had suddenly been struck by a goddamn stag: hooves to the throat, antlers to the chest, goring him- turning him inside out. Her words shook him, and he was completely bewildered. Numb from the overwhelming confusion, Daryl nodded, albeit faintly... he didn't even fucking understand what had just come out of her mouth. His heart hammered. What was he feeling? Relief? Bewilderment? Horror? He was dumbfounded- that's what he was.

She gently brushed the tears from his damp cheeks and removed his tangled bangs from where they hung in his face. She swallowed visibly in the dim porch light, and nodded, smiling ever so faintly.

* * *

[ **Author's Note:** ] **Okay, this is where things start to get unbearable for poor Daryl. The factor of self-harm is there, but it isn't exactly something he consciously resorts to; it just sort of happens because he starts to become anxious. That's when Carol brings him back to reality.**

 **Also, Carol is a mind-reader? What? Even Daryl didn't understand how he felt about Jasmine; it just became second nature to treat her different or favor her. I've come to the conclusion (that although I totally ship Caryl and Bethyl), that Carol is more of a mother-figure to Daryl, although nonetheless he loves her deeply.**


	14. Chapter 14 - Only Bad Folks Lie

_Trigger warning_

 **Late December**

 _Jasmine opened her eyes. Sunshine bathed her, the sweet grass swayed. Everything was green and fresh, and warm. Cicadas buzzed in a chorus in the distance, the breeze rustled the leaves in the trees... Rolling over onto her side, Jasmine looked up at the cerulean stretch overhead, adoring the smears of alabaster clouds above. For once, she could feel her fingers. There was no dead dry underbrush, there was no snow, no croaking ravens and howling wind. Birds chirruped cheerfully, and a hot breeze stirred the plush grass surrounding her. Trees were the skyscrapers of the forest, their branches filled with thick needles and full, lush leaves that reached toward the sky._

 _Movement beside her caused her to turn her head. The delicious sunshine outlined Daryl's head in a halo of heavenly warmth. He looked so peaceful, his eyes focused on the rabbit he was in the progress of skinning. Jasmine listened to him humming a soft tune. Hadn't it been winter not long ago? This had all happened before... as if it were a memory. Perhaps it was some sort of déja-vu?_

 _"_ Didn't think you were gonna wake up _," Daryl mused, glancing over at her. He continued what he was doing. Jasmine watched as he finished up, and then took to the river running not far from them. He rinsed his hands, and then his face, and then rose to his feet. This couldn't be right... could it? The sight of his face - the memory.. it made her ache. She missed his presence: even if they weren't speaking to each other, it was always so relaxing. Jasmine quietly reached over and grabbing one of his arrows and studied the tip. It was slender, deadly... She felt the soft breeze upon her bare skin. Jasmine gazed down at her bare legs. Her high-waisted shorts rode high, her feet bare as her deck shoes were neatly placed next to each other on the bank. Jasmine's high-collared tank top completely covered her chest and tucked up just below her clavicle, but at least it kept her cool. The AC/DC logo on her shirt was something Daryl admired, and the flannel she had snatched from Maggie's drawer was tied around her waist in case she needed it later._

 _Her green optics turned up toward Daryl, whom had his back turned to her, wiping his hands on his pant leg. He was dressed for the weather, wearing his usual button up, the sleeves torn and frayed; his roughed-up jeans and boots; and his leather vest. His shoulders were broad, his back strong and toned, his bare arms were powerful. Daryl gazed off up the river, biting his lower lip and shutting one eye against the sun. It was clear that he was in thought, pondering most likely on what Carol would make for the group tonight.. maybe about playing cards with Rick or chopping wood later on that day._

 _"_ Daryl _.." Jasmine said softly. Did he even know? She missed him so much, it hurt. He turned his head. "_ Hm _?" She didn't think so. Daryl turned himself around and sauntered over, falling back onto his behind on the grass behind Jasmine with a grunt. The archer twisted and laid down upon his side for a moment, leaning back on an elbow and fiddling with a strand of grass he managed to pick._

 _"_ What do you think Judith will be like when she's older? _" asked the young woman, giving up. If she got to the point, she might ruin the moment. Leaning back on her elbows, she tilted her head back completely, peering at the archer at a rather topsy-turvy angle. As he usually would, he peered up at her, and then he quickly returned his attention to the object in his hands, as if bashful. Daryl may be tough and mean, but he was a big softy sometimes, she could just tell._

 _The archer shrugged. "_ Probably like her brother. Th' little stinker will be pretty badass though, I'll make sure o' that. _"_

 _"_ As badass as you? _" prodded Jasmine._

 _Daryl grinned and shook his head, chuckling softly. "_ Okay, what d'ya want? _"_

 _She smirked and giggled. "_ Nothing! I just wanted to know what you think... _"_

 _"_ Well, she's gonna be one o' us, so that's all that matters _," Daryl finally answered. The two continued to smile and make merry for a little while, before they returned to silence. They listened to the wind in the trees and enjoyed the delicious smell of the summer air._

 _Jasmine ran a hand through her beautiful long hair, and reached forward. She began to weave little flowers together, along with grass and twigs - she was making nothing in particular, just trying to busy herself. "_ Wastin' time? _" inquired Daryl. She hummed in agreement, feeling his eyes on her back but ignoring him. The wind gently tousled her dark locks._

 _"_ Why d'yuh insist on keepin' y'r hair so long? _" She shrugged, continuing with weaving. He paused. "_ Y'know, I had a cousin who grew her hair past her ass. _"_

 _"_ Did ya fuck her? _" There was an abrupt silence._

 _"_ Really? _" He was clearly irritated by the rather stereotypical joke. Success! She burst out laughing, the bubbly sound catching the wind and echoing through the woods. "_ Fuck off. _"_

 _This was a memory. Her eyes flitted up to the sky, watching as robin flitted across treetop, as had happened before. She could control her own thought process, she could remember previous events... so, what was happening to her? Jasmine looked over toward the skinned rabbit, over at the knife. She tilted her head. Hadn't Carol said something about the knife having belonged to Beth?_

 _Her head gently fell. She wondered what would happen if she said something out of context of the memory?_

 _"_ Did y' ma ever braid your hair for you? _" Daryl asked. Oh, she had forgotten._

 _"_ Yeah. She'd do it whenever it was raining and I couldn't go outside. _" Jasmine paused what she was doing and took a deep breath. Her heart fluttered, pounding in her ears. She had almost forgotten about..._

 _Daryl reached forward suddenly, and took hold of her hair, gently combing it out with his fingers. He then began to braid her hair, as if it were second nature. Jasmine straightened, allowing him to have a better hold. Soon her hair was in a surprisingly beautiful braid. Reaching over, she swung it over her shoulder and curiously peered at her hair._

 _"_ How do you know how to braid? _" asked Jasmine_

 _"_ Knots _," he lied. She leaned back on her elbows, and once again looked back at him. There was a moment of silence, before he shrugged. Shaking her head, she smirked and returned to her weaving. Daryl, on the other hand, laid back down, this time flat on his back. The young woman, after a while, took a deep breath._

 _"_ Beth... she was Maggie's sister, yes? _" Jasmine asked, going out on a limb. There was a long silence, the sound of the birds filling it in for a while, before Daryl sighed heavily. It seemed as though she wasn't going to get an answer.. "_ I have so many questions about her... like, what did she look like? Why did Maggie cry when you sang to Judith? Did she always sing to Judith? Were you two close? _" The silence continued. Jasmine looked off toward the running brook. "_ What did she mean to you? _"_

 _"_ I guess I'll have to wait until we meet again _..." she sighed. A great sadness overwhelmed her, and she felt tears surging to the surface. "_ If we ever do _.."_

 _"_ If we ever do _..." Daryl echoed softly. Jasmine turned her head to look over at him, searching for any possible sign that he had been listening. Her heart broke as she saw that he was watching the sky fly by, his own tears falling from his distant shale-blue pools. "_ Daryl _..." she ached. Jasmine turned her head and began to sob softly, her body wilting like a flower._

 _"_ Please, please find us. Maggie is being used as a fucking slave. They live like kings while others build their kingdom for them. They work in the worst conditions and work their hands to the bone... they're treating anyone who won't follow their rules like they're a different race, a different species.. I'm so scared.. _"_

 _The bird song was becoming hollow. It sounded as if everything was coming through a tunnel now. "_ Blake is one of them. Blake is her fucking dog, and he takes pride in it. He isn't my brother: he isn't the man who protected me back in Atlanta. Daryl, please, bring Rick and the others to find us. We need out. We need to free these people... we need to end this. _"_

 _Crumbling, Jasmine began to shed even more tears, her body wracked with heavy sobs. It took her a while before she finally recomposed herself. She covered her mouth, and then took a deep breath, shaking her head. She had to be strong. She had to. Jasmine laid back, her head resting against Daryl's stomach. She looked up at the clouds, and the two watched the afternoon go by. Slowly, she drifted..._

* * *

Her eyes peeled open. Maggie hovered over her, concerned and fretting. It was cold again... and dark. Jasmine's cheeks were damp, her lips dry and cracked, parted ever so slightly. She stared up at the ceiling of her bedroom. "Jasmine, darlin'?" Inquired Maggie. Her voice was soft. The young woman slowly sat up in the bed the two shared, her back aching. It had been a few days after the coronation that she had asked to share residence with Maggie. Fallon, of course, had told her that she would be sharing housing with "commoners", which she didn't care about. She helped out with labor as often as she could, and eventually began seeing less and less of her brother. It was probably for the best. Jasmine would rather be with Maggie than with Fallon... everything about her made her feel sick.

She rolled her stiff shoulders. Her body screamed in agony as she swung herself off the bed, hoisting herself up off the mattress so she could begin the process of getting ready for the day. She had to admit, she would miss being able to shower every morning and wear clean, comfortable clothing. Maggie and Jasmine shared a breakfast of tasteless porridge and then scooted out the door. Obviously used to small meals, it didn't effect them. The two walked out into the courtyard, warily eyeing the men and women who turned their noses up at them as they past. Their damn black eyes n' shit, it all bothered her. The aesthetics were the only thing that divided the others from the lower class. They looked no better than the dead.

Soon they arrived at the pits, where they were escorted inside. The group had to dig little dug-outs for the new walls that were going to be used for cement walls. The civilization was expanding their boundaries, as Fallon had said, and they needed every one to work as hard as possible, for the sake of Hatchback Grove.

They worked for hours along the chain-link, nearly attacked by Walkers in the process, which were picked off by the guard up at the top of the wall. Despite the chill, the sweat they all were working up kept them warm, so long as they kept moving. Jasmine helped a few of the others drag bags of cement to the slump in the ground. There was dirt under her nails, on her face and in her air. Everyone was exhausted soon, and after four hours straight of non-stop labor, the group was given a break. Slices of stale bread were tossed into the paddock. People hungrily dove for them, as did Maggie and Jasmine. Of course, when she caught her's, Jasmine gave it to the other woman and went hungry.

She knew that she needed her strength, but she'd rather Maggie eat first. It made her feel as if there were at least some order. Whilst the crew was eating, Jasmine caught sight of a familiar head of burning hair. Rage filled her to the brim, and she strode forward. Jude, upon seeing her, began to sprint, only to be leaped on like a puny animal would be by a hungry jungle cat, pinned to the hard frozen dirt. She wrenched Jude over and latched onto his throat, lifting and slamming his head off the ground.

"You sneaky.. son of a... _bitch_!" Jasmine hissed. Maggie rushed over and attempted to drag her off, but she held on, her strength escalating due to sheer lividity alone. The crew was cheering and hooping and hollering, all until Jasmine heard Maggie cry out as she was smacked away, followed by a grip of steel on her hair. She was yanked off of Jude, who gasped for air, bruises forming around his throat where Jasmine had latched on.

"You whore! You're lucky we ain't allowed to take y' to the gallows, or you'd be gettin' a lashin' that'd nearly _blind y_ '!" Ronnie snarled. He hoisted her up by her collar suddenly, and shaken by the fairly large man.

" _What'd you fuckin' call me_?" Jasmine growled. She went to hit the man, only to be back handed so hard that she felt her nose crick, and suddenly begin to leak, much like Jude's. Ronnie pushed her back and released his hold on her shirt. Jasmine stumbled back into Maggie, who supported her. "Get back to work, all y'all!"

The whistle was blown, and the crew sulked back, their fun ruined. All except Maggie and Jasmine. Just before the other woman could help her turn, she regained her bearings and raced over to Ronnie, who unsuspecting, whipped around last minute. He earned a nasty uppercut, and a kick in the gut. Once he was down, she began to kick at his head, earing cries of pain from the man. Maggie ran up, but froze as bullets rang out. Fueled by her anger, she ignored the bullets of warning. Caught of guard suddenly as her wounded shoulder acted up out of the blue, Ronnie managed to trip her and pin her, sitting on her torso and punching her repeatedly.

One... two... three, four... Her head was beginning to fuzz, the agony deafening. Suddenly, just before he could strike another blow, Blake came out of nowhere, and removed the man from her. She laid there, dazed, the whole world covered by a reddish film. Blake was there, shaking her; Maggie rushing to her opposite side... Jasmine watched as the two fretted over her, fear in their eyes. For a moment, she could have sworn she heard Daryl humming again, similar to how he had in her dream. There was a final, echoing note followed by silence. She could hear her heart throbbing.

Suddenly, Daryl's voice filled her ears. **_"If we ever meet again.."_**

Her eyes shut and she was plunged into darkness.

* * *

Jasmine, being the nosy girl she was, had overheard a few of the men mention that they weren't having any luck with their hunting trips. Everything they had spoke of was wrong, and thus, she had spoken up and offered to show them how to make proper snares. Maggie had added that she knew how to keep walkers away from their catches, which gave her a bit of confidence... maybe they could attempt to escape while they weren't looking. So, here they were, the heavy gates closing behind them and fully loaded guns in their hands as they left Hatchback Grove... The three men they had left with were a set of twins and, of course, Ronnie.

Jasmine had been wary of the man since their little quarrel, her eye still a faint plume of inky violet and puffy green from the shiner he had given her. The two rarely looked at each other, which was a relief. She wasn't in any danger, at least none that was visible. There were no signs. The twins were lanky tall young fellows, with sharp cheekbones and greasy blond hair. The only way you could tell them apart was the fact that one wore his hair pulled back in a rat-tail, the other's mop being short and fuzzy. One went by Matthias, the other by Toni.

The young woman followed along at Maggie's side. The two were blocked in by the trio of large men so that they couldn't attempt to escape. Trekking out down the road, they walked for a good few paces before they came to the ditch that lead into the hunting grounds. Jasmine was just about to slip down the slope with the rest, when she stopped, gazing down the tarmac. Suddenly, her attention was ripped away as she was shoved by Toni, the more serious of the two. Her troubles must have been amusing, because his brother let out a chuckle when she fell into the mud. Maggie helped her up, the two remaining silent. There wasn't much they could do to stand up for themselves - not unless they felt like being hurt.

The group continued on until they came to the first snare. Jasmine pointed out how it was all wrong, earning a few rude mutters from the twins. Maggie and Jasmine began the task of resetting the traps. It was fairly easy, but as the day grew colder and they had no coats, their fingers had become numb and their bodies tired. The men decided to take a break, attempting to warm themselves up around a small fire. Jasmine and Maggie stood watch while Matthias took it upon himself to keep an eye on them. In the meantime, Ronnie and Toni took to searching for some more wood to burn. The wind cut through Jasmine, and her teeth chattered, her eyes watering against the frigid air. It was so fucking cold...

"Hey..." Matthias suddenly called. Jasmine ignored him, glaring off toward the trees, while Maggie decided to turn to see what he wanted. There was a moment of silence. Jasmine finally turned from where she stood not far off, and noticed that Matthias was giving the other woman a thorough undressing with his eyes. " _Strip_.."

The hair on the back of Jasmine's arms stood up and the two both wrinkled their noses. Maggie scowled and her mouth opened, completely disgusted. "Excuse me?" Matthias rose from where he sat on the ground, and approached, coming close to Maggie. "You heard me," he said. He sneered, and reached for her breast. Jasmine dashed forward, unsheathing the knife strapped to her thigh, and lunging for him. Matthias instantly backed up.

" _Ohhhh_ , protectin' your friend now?" Matthias inquired. Just before anything more could happen, Ronnie and Toni returned, exchanging looks of confusion. The nasty man began to lie his way out of it. "I was tellin' the tall one to go find you guys and bring you back, when the other one just snapped on me!" Matthias looked honestly frightened, but Jasmine could see through his disguise. Toni glanced over at the woman with the knife, and then frowned.

"Drop it..." Ronnie ordered, raising his gun. Hesitant at first, she refused to let herself be made a fool of... but soon Toni raised his weapon as well, and Maggie whispered for her to let the knife go. Jasmine dropped it and raised her hands. With a stride, the long-legged man swiped the knife from the forest floor. Ronnie stepped up next to Maggie.

"Come help me with this snare," he ordered, grasping her upper arm and giving her a rather gentle tug. Maggie exchanged glances with Jasmine, who gave her a nod. She was then left alone with the twins. They both towered over her for a moment. Something felt... wrong. "You've gotta lotta nerve, threatenin' me, girl..." Matthias growled. The two brothers began to circle her. Feeling trapped so suddenly, Jasmine held her ground, ready for a fight if she was given one. "Y' think we're just gonna let you off easy like ol' _Ronnie_ back there?" inquired Toni. His cold grey eyes cut into her, much like Daryl's.

Jasmine felt fear wash over her like the tide. On impulse, Jasmine darted toward Matthias and slipped between the twins, bounding over logs and crashing through bushes. She blindly fumbled through the undergrowth until she came to a path, and began to follow it. Her heart hammered in her ears, and just before she managed to make it to one of the fences around the grounds, Jasmine felt the breath being knocked out of her as she was tackled. Her pursuer rolled her over, revealing Matthias's skinny face. He was grinning from ear to ear as she struggled in his grip, flailing so she could get out. "It's either _you_ , or _her_ , girlie!" he caterwauled. Jasmine struggled, shooting Toni a look that begged him to help. The twin turned away as if in shame.

" _Make it quick_..." Toni proceeded to mumble. Her heart leaped into her throat. Her belt creaked, and unbuckled, and soon she was shivering against Matthias's long body. He held her hands above her head, and no matter how much she struggled, she couldn't fight it anymore. Her shirt was pushed up over her bra, and soon her breasts were bared before the disgusting man. Jasmine began to sob and cry out as he groped her and touched her, causing her to wriggle in disgust like a worm under a fisherman's nail. Slowly, her senses began to dull and she drowned out the moment, staring up at the grey sky above. She had to let this happen. Maggie would be in danger...

Matthias's hand wrapped around her slender throat, pressing her cranium, neck and shoulders into the dead leaves and the musty earth. His hot breath on her cheeks smelled like his lunch from earlier. It was sour and revolting... She felt the sharp prickling of the pine needles against her spine, how the dirt pressed to her warm flesh. It scraped into every pore, grinding and scraping as her body shifted and jerked from being violated by the swine that hovered over her. It hurt... it honestly fucking hurt. The minutes dragged on and felt like decades before finally, she was left in the dirt, her pants discarded not far from her body. Her milky flesh was tainted by a heavy love-bite upon her collar bone, and bruises shrouding her delicate neck.

Her womanhood was in unimaginable pain, her hips and back aching; the breath entering and escaping her lungs whistling through her previously compressed windpipe. Jasmine stared blankly up at the sky, her fingers gripping into the frozen earth. Her teeth chattered and tears fell from her eyes, slithering down her cheeks and into her ears. Her body was wracked with shivers, whimpers escaping her as she sat up slowly. Toni stood with his back to her, Matthias having returned to their original place back by the fire. She slowly found her pants, returning her bra to her breasts and then pulling her turtleneck over her body.

Jasmine hugged herself, standing there, her belt unbuckled and her cargo pants hanging open. Slowly, she began to button up her pants, and proceeded to rebuckle her belt with trembling hands. She stood there, looking up at the sky above, completely hollow and distressed, until suddenly a large coat fell over her shoulders. Toni gently touched her back and guided her back to the camp... Touched, she sniffled. Jasmine soon clenched her teeth though, and dried her eyes... she needed to be strong. Maggie couldn't know. _Nobody could_...

* * *

When Jasmine returned, she was taken to the outskirts of Hatchback Grove, and shoved in a rather muddy pen. High fences topped with barbwire soared high above her head, and thus there was no way that she could get out... she knew it. Jasmine shuffled into the naked pen, hugging herself against the cold. Why was she here? For punishment? Matthias had already done enough to punish her. Jasmine shivered and felt the urge to vomit, but swallowed it back as it surged to the surface. She crossed the open area, and for a moment, everything seemed to be going smoothly. She approached a small collection of large boxes, eyeing a rather suspicious pair of feet that stuck out from within. Suddenly, Jasmine tripped over something in her way, and fell hard on her face.

It took her a moment to recuperate, groaning in pain as she rolled over and opened her eyes. She was met with a pair of beady eyes and a feathery head. Jasmine let out a cry of surprise as a chicken - a fairly large one at that - stared down at her. Startled, the avian flapped and hopped away from her. " _He doesn't like you_!" cried a small voice. The southern twang was something unmistakable. She had to keep it in the back of her mind for a later. A freckle-faced boy suddenly bounded over, picking up the chicken. He had a chipped tooth and wore busy floral overalls. Striped nylons covered her scrawny legs beneath, obvious through a hole torn in the knee; and a t-shirt illustrated with pen-like drawings of fish the only thing to keep her upper trunk warm.

"Oh?" Jasmine inquired, rather puzzled. It was a girl! Her short strawberry-blonde hair was pulled back in a braid, her feet protected by a pair of blue galosh boots. "Yea-yuh! He ain't too happy you're here... he thinks y'r _weird_.." The girl tilted her chin down, frowning. The little girl looked her over. "You okay, lady?" she asked. Jasmine nodded faintly. At first, the little girl seemed hesitant. "Well, what's y'r name?"

Her eyes fluttered in confusion at first, but soon enough she cleared her throat. "Jasmine. Jasmine Cuckle..." she replied. Given a look of thought, Jasmine stood in the silence, as still as she could. Soon enough, the girl reached down and whispered to Reese, who bobbed his head in confusion. It was touching, nonetheless... "Reese says you can stay. He just doesn't want you touchin' momma..." the girl said at last. Jasmine loosened up and nodded.

"What's your mother's name?" asked the woman. She glanced around. "Where is she?" At first, the little girl hesitated. "Her name is Marie-Lynn... She's laying down - restin'. She ain't one to be bothered." Watching the little girl as she shook her head and rocked from her heels to her toes, the femme smiled faintly and nodded. She didn't want to pry. "Then what's your name?" asked Jasmine. "I told you mine, now I should be told your's..." Reese chuckled nervously as the girl shifted from one foot to the other. She scuffed her boot against the earth, almost in a shy manner. Finally, she replied, " _Jord'n_.."

Jasmine smiled gently and nodded once more. "I like your name. It suits you." Jordan grinned shyly, and dipped her head. "I've b'n told that bef're.." Reese chuckled again, and then suddenly squawked, flapping as he attempted to escape in a flurry of feathers. Jordan released her pet, and the chicken scurried away. She then looked past Jasmine. The gates creaked, grabbing her attention, and suddenly someone was shoved through them. To her surprise, Jude stumbled in, flustered in the moment. Jasmine couldn't fight the urge to run over and maul the flaming-crowned boy, but fortunately for Jude, she didn't exactly have the strength to do so.

Her gaze was met from across the paddock, only for him to shy away and plod off down the hill. Jordan suddenly sighed heavily from behind her. " _That Jude_. Always gettin' h'mself in a mess... he's a pickle, he is!" she flustered. Shaking her head gently, she sighed too and then nodded in agreement. "Lemme show y'uh 'round, miss!"

Jasmine gladly accepted the offer. There wasn't much to see, but she made the most of it. At least there was some sort of innocence here in this world. Jasmine's teeth chattered once again as the cold breeze cut right through her. It was completely frigid. How could a little girl be wandering around in this weather unprotected? Jasmine studied the child's ruddy cheeks and dirty, scuffed hands. "How did you get here, Jordan?" she asked. Jordan peered up at her. "They don' like Reese, so they put me and him in here... when momma got tir'd, they threw her in here too.." The little girl shrugged. "It all jus' kinda happen'd I guess."

Pondering on the state of her mother, her eyes wandered over to the boxes and the pair of boots. "Is she over there?" inquired Jasmine once more. Curiosity had gotten the best of her - she hoped that it didn't alarm little Jordan. "Yea-yuh..." she replied, rather solemn. Her heart ached, and she instantly thought about Judith. "Those bad men didn' give h'r a blanket.. so she's usin' mah coat. I notic'd y' lookin'." Frowning, she instantly felt a bit embarrassed. She had made it fairly obvious, she suspected. That, or the girl was fairly observant.

Jordan's curious grey eyes looked up at her. "D'ya have a momma?" Something in her chest twinged and Jasmine felt her throat lock up. Swallowing, she shook her head. Jordan's curiosity dimmed and she looked away, sadly. There was silence for a while... until she spoke up again.

"That's all right. Mah momma is lucky t' still be 'round. I know a bunch 'uh kids who don' have a momma or a papa..." Jordan chided. She turned her head up to face her and patted her gently on the arm. "It's all right. D'ya have an'one else?" Now that was a question she could answer. As the two came to a bench near the fence, they sat down. Jordan scooted over and leaned against her, to her surprise, which she couldn't help but feel warmth fill her to the brim and bubble over, causing the corners of her mouth to raise in a small, beaming smile. "Well, yes," Jasmine answered as they nestled in. She wrapped her arm over Jordan's shoulders, watching Reese as he pecked at their feet. "Before I came here.. I was with a group of folks who treated me well. They were my family..."

"Well that's funny. You said that ya didn' have paren's..." Jordan piped up, frowning. "Were you lyin'? Lyin' ain't good - bad folks lie." Jasmine couldn't help but laugh. Jordan was a bright girl, but not completely so.

"No! _No_ , they became my family. We were all really close," she explained. The little girl's lips created an "o", and she nodded in understanding. Jasmine chuckled again, and then shook her head. Nuzzling against her for warmth, Jasmine held her closer to her side. "There was Rick: he's our leader. He's tall, with a bit of a beard. He always keeps people's heads on straight, and makes calm, collected decisions... well, most of the time. He had been a police officer before all these bad things happened..."

"Like with th' sirens and the bang-guns?" Jordan asked, curiosity never leaving her as she listened. Jasmine's eyes turned up and she gazed off through the fence and over the hills. A walker shambled along the side of the plateau. "Yes, like that." Jasmine felt her turned her head to look up at her. "Then there was Abraham. Now he was tall. Like a _giant_. He always makes up the funniest stories... I'm not sure what he did before all of this - I think he was some sort of soldier. Anyway, he had hair kinda like yours, and a mustache, and mutton chops." Jordan cocked her head.

"Mutt'n chaps?" she echoed, wrinkling her nose.

"They're kinda like hooks, only hair that grows down in front of your ears..." Jasmine screwed up her face as well. She then shook her head and shrugged. Jasmine wasn't sure how to explain it. "Like mean ol' mister Ronnie?" inquired the girl.

Jasmine turned her eyes down toward her, meeting her large grey eyes. She was surprised. What a smart young lady! "Yes, like that mean old man. Abraham was funny though. You'd've liked him!" Turning her head back, the young woman allowed her gaze to follow the walker once more. "And there was Glenn, Maggie's husband. She's around here somewhere... anyway, Glenn is a bit older than me, but he's quite spry - full of energy, I mean. He's quick, and because of that, the main guy to go to when you needed a special run into town. He's really good with kids like you: you'd have tons to do with him. He knows a lot of games!" Jordan suddenly bounced in her seat.

"Oh! _OH_! Like _Simon Says_?"

Jasmine smiled. "Yes, just like that!"

"And we have Carol. She's kinda like the mother of the group... she will tuck you in at night, and sing you songs. She tells good stories too, and is very creative," Jasmine continued, her smile fading. "I miss her. She always worried as to whether you've eaten enough, or if you'd bathed. She can be stubborn and tough, but she's always sweet to you at the end of the day." Jordan leaned her head against the side of her breast. "Like my momma?" she asked quietly. "She's always cleanin' dirt off me and makin' sure I wash behind mah ears... is that kinda like Car'l?"

Jasmine nodded. "I haven't met your mom, but I'm sure she is just as wonderful and caring.. a good mom. " Trailing off, she watched as the walker disappeared from sight. Jordan suddenly nudged her, and turned her head, tilting her chin up to gaze at her. "Tell me more, miss!" she pleaded. A smile returned to her face. "There's Sasha. She's always making sure no bad guys find us. She is good with 'bang-guns', and she's really smart. Kinda like Michonne.."

"Mi... Mish... on?" Jordan babbled, attempting to pronounce her name.

"Michonne.. Mish-own," Jasmine explained. Jordan repeated it slowly, and then eventually got the hang of it. "Michonne!" With a bob of her head, the girl giggled in a giddy fashion. Jasmine couldn't help but catch the contagious laughter. "Keep goin'!" Jordan chirruped. Nodding, she rubbed Jordan's shoulder and the two continued to watch the hill. "Michonne, she has a sword."

"Like a kn'ght?" asked Jordan. Shrugging, Jasmine replied, "Sorta."

"She's beautiful, with her long hair and her grace. She's very strong, and very smart. She's never caught off guard and helps Rick with most of his decisions. Michonne is an excellent judge of character, and she is fiercely loyal." Jasmine looked down at Jordan as she reached down and picked up Reese. The bird settled in the girl's lap, and she proceeded to stroke his fathers. Not far off, she noticed someone approaching, but ignored it. It was just Jude. "There was Carl, Rick's son. He's a quite few years older than you. Fourteen... he's a smart kid, like you. He's always with his baby sister, Judith -"

"A _baby_?" she inquired, skeptical. "Momma says babies don' get made anym're." Jasmine chuckled. "Yes, well, there's one back at the lodge, where I live." Jude wandered over, hesitant at first. Eyeing him as he was approaching, Jasmine hesitated to continue. Jordan glanced over at him and shyly greeted him. The boy had his hands shoved in his sweater pocket. He eased himself down on the far end of the bench. Jordan smiled softly, earning Jude's own flash of pearly whites. "Anyway..." Jasmine continued. "Judith is only one. She's a very small baby, but she's happy. The group is always around to protect her, so she's never in any danger... except for this one time - she ran into the woods and scared us all. Daryl went after her and caught her, which was a relief." Her heart ached as she spoke of the archer. It had been such a long time since his name had touched her lips. Jordan noticed a stirring of emotion in her face and curiously nudged her.

"Who's Daryl?" she asked. Glancing down at the little freckle-faced girl, she took a deep breath. A surge of warmth washed over her as she recalled all the lovely memories she had made with him. "He's my ... best friend. He never cuts his hair, and he never really shaves. He'd remind you of these weird, mean men that order people around. He rides a motorcycle, and uses a crossbow. He's... he's very strong, and he never fails to protect the ones he loves. Daryl is a bit rough around the edges and rather withdrawn, but he's there for his friends nonetheless. He makes sure there's food other than just cans of beans and corn." Jasmine gazed off at the horizon. "He's a smelly guy with an attitude. He can be really mean sometimes, but he's really just a big softy. Daryl keeps people safe, and like Michonne, always has your back, no matter what."

With a deep breath, she smiled and nodded. "He's really awesome.." Finishing her little speech, Jordan bounced in excitement. "I wanna meet these people!" she beamed. "I want momma to meet 'em, I wanna learn t' use a sword, like a knight!" The young girl suddenly hopped to her feet, Reese giving a surprised cluck, and began to jog over toward where her mother was resting. Jasmine was left alone, next to Jude as Jordan began to chatter away to her mother off in the distance.

At first, Jude attempted to offer a smile, which he was returned with a sour glare. The grin faded and he looked at his shoes. "I ... uh... wa-wanna apologi-gize..." he began. Jasmine looked away, clenching her jaw. If it weren't for him, she and Maggie wouldn't be currently held here in this horrible place. "I-I h-had no choice... It wa-was either thi-is or I was l-left to li-live alo-lone..."

"Weren't you wanting to get away from here?" she shot, her cranium twisting around on it's joint. Jude looked at her with a look of fear. "If Bla-Blake hadn't ha-ave fou-found you, things wou-ould have been differ-fferent..." Jude defended himself. The young woman scowled and looked away. There was silence, the bitter wind howling as they sat with a great distance between themselves.

"I-I h-ha-ave a pla-an..." Jude suddenly mumbled. Her head turned. She couldn't help but feel a bit curious. Maybe she would be able to escape? "You-ou just ha-ave to trust me-e..." Jasmine gave him an meticulous look, narrowing her eyes for a moment. Her keen pools remained locked onto him. He was clearly nervous and timid, but he was looking upon her with sincere watery-blue eyes.

"I gave C-Carl a ma-ap here..." he stated, his voice soft and low.

Her heart palpitated. "You _what_?"

She was answered with a slow, gentle nod. Jasmine blinked, her eyes wide. Unsure of what to make of the situation, her eyes fell and she gawked down at the frozen earth beneath her feet. "Now, he ma-may have f-fo-orgotten, bu-ut he's a sm-mart guy..." Jude continued. Was this some sort of trick? "But I kn-know if they fi-find it, they'll be he-here soon..."

Suddenly Jordan came racing over, Reese hot on her trail. "Momma isn't wakin' up!" Fear was shining in her large grey eyes, which Jasmine mirrored as she looked upon her. _Oh no_... Jude stared at the girl like a deer in the headlights. _**Oh no**_... A few heads popped up from down the way, a few of the other pit-dwellers looking over. They appeared intruiged by the drama of the moment. Tears were gathering in Jordan's eyes. She picked up Reese as if for security. "Why won't she wake up?" Jordan asked, clearly in distress. Jude stood and jogged up the slope. Jasmine and Jordan followed. As he knelt, he felt the side of her throat, searching for a pulse.

After a moment or so, he wilted, coming up with nothing. The fiery red-head rose to his feet and looked solemnly upon Jordan. Her eyes, as if they couldn't become any wider, became saucers. People were beginning to gather. Shaking her head, she began to whine, grabbing for Jasmine's shirt and holding it tightly. The young girl began to cry. Kneeling, the young woman wiped away her own tears and hugged her. Reese plopped from her arms and scuttled away, allowing Jordan to hold Jasmine tightly. "I knew she wasn't gunna make it... I knew it, when the chomper got her, I knew what it meant..." she whimpered. Jasmine held her close and looked over at Jude, whose jaw had dropped. "I just didn' wanna see her get hurt by the mean ol' men..."

Hushing the young girl, she drew away. "It's gonna be okay..."

Jordan looked upon her and shook her head. "No! No it's _not_! Momma is _dead_ now!" Her lip quivered. Jasmine's heart ached. "Jordan.. honey..."

Before she could try and calm her down, the little girl ripped away from her, running away toward a patch of bushes growing by the fence. There wasn't much that Jasmine could do... Rising to her feet, she looked over at Jude, who was looking down at the inanimate woman. Slowly, he turned his eyes over to her. Swallowing hard, Jasmine instantly scoffed. "No... _no fucking way_..." She knew exactly what he was thinking, just by looking at him. "We are not letting that girl's mother turn, just so we can get out..."

Someone near her piped up, "Get out?"

"You mean escape? We could be _killed_!"

"It would be better than being here. I'd rather take my chances!"

Jasmine was shocked by the insensitive nature of the slaves. They were all being treated with the lowest respect and the cruelest nature, and yet they were still so insensitive to other's pain? It was mortifying... but ... then again, they had a point. If they could overthrow this place, people would be able to get out and hopefully live a better life. They would be able to survive.

"I-If we some h-how get more in, th-hen we could maybe all m-mak-ake a run for i-it..." Jude suggested. He no longer stood with a defeated posture. He was straight and proud, his shoulders back. Bravery looked good on him. Jasmine honestly was beginning to enjoy the thought of watching all that Fallon had built for herself crumble around her. For what she was subjecting others to for her own benefit, she deserved such a thing to happen. She deserved to lose it all. Rage began to burn in her belly as the others began to brainstorm ideas on how to rebel and get out.

They were all very smart, very strong people, despite how malnourished and unhealthy some were. Their spirit had never left, she assumed. That gave her courage... Jasmine began to feel her old vigor return to her. Fueled by her newly discovered vim, the woman took a deep breath and latched eyes with Jude. " _I'm in_."

* * *

Jasmine laid as still as she could on the ground, hidden by the hump of the slope, Jordan at her side, Reese nestled up in the crook of the young girl's arm. After much consideration on the little girl's part, she had finally agreed to let them use her mother in order to help. Jordan's mother, once reanimated, would create a chain of events that would cause a disruption in the city's main walls. After the signal that Jude would give on an old walkie-talkie he had managed to snatch from the weapon's room, group two would proceed to let in more walkers, and create a panic. Upon the arrival of the guards, group three would open up the fence at the west end of the paddock.

In the chaos, Jude, Jasmine and Jordan would meet Maggie around the back of the southern wall, and they would all escape Hatchback Grove through the construction site. It wasn't exactly a solid plan, but at least they had something. Jasmine held the shivering Jordan close. Goosebumps rose on her skin as she felt the wind cut through them, the cold earth not making the situation any better. Jordan's shivering concerned her. The little girl had been without a coat for a long time. "D'y really think we'll get out?" whispered Jordan. Reese stirred between them. Jasmine nodded gentle. "We have to be _quick_... okay? Remember how fast I told you to run?"

"Keep runnin' til I see a girl with a bang-gun strapp'd t' her leg, carryin' a pair of axes and two backpacks..." Jordan recited, her tiny voice trembling. Smiling, Jasmine pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and gave her a pat on the back. "Very good."

There were suddenly screams of horror, and the gurgling hisses of zombies off in the distance. Jordan tensed, suddenly afraid. Reese stirred again, but the little girl hushed him. Quietly, they set to wrapping him in a jacket so he would be easier to carry. Jasmine and the girl climbed up onto their hands and knees and peered over the slope. A plume of smoke was rising from the inside of the walls. Jordan, curious, looked over at the young woman in question. " _Fire_ ," she whispered. "There's a fire - that means that something's going on.."

The two remained where they were for a long time. Their toes and fingers were practically frozen right now. The sun had gone down long ago, and the stars were beginning to come out. It was a clear night. While waiting, Jasmine told her about the stars, just as Daryl had told her. It was sort of a beautiful thing, telling someone something you'd always remember... hoping they would, too, pass it on to those they cared about.

Suddenly, there were loud voices. Jordan gasped, frightened, but Jasmine hushed her. The little girl proceeded to count to three, before calming down. The femme helped the child strap her chicken to her back. The bird protested, but the little girl managed to calm Reese with a few little clucks of her own. Hunkering down, close to the ground, they waited. They sound of the gates opening caused adrenaline to suddenly burst in Jasmine's vein's. The groans of the dead coiled through the air, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to raise. They had to just stay still..

"Now, miss?" Jordan whispered. She was clearly eager to escape.

"Wait..." Jasmine narrowed her eyes in the darkness, hearing the gunfire suddenly cut through the air, along with cries of rage and fear. Slowly, the two crawled up the side of the slope and hovered at the apex...

A few tense moments past before she began to count down. Upon the final number, the two simultaneously leaped over the side of the hill and raced down along the side of the fence as fast as they could. Her heart hammered in her ears, her breaths ripping through her windpipe and causing a great pain to spark within her chest. Her eyes were on the target. Jordan suddenly began to fall behind. " _Jordan_!" Jasmine cried. She slowed and grabbed the girl. Hoisting her up onto her back, she ran for the fence - their goal was within their reach.

"Reese!" There was a squawk as the bird fell from his sling. There was no time, they had been spotted. Jasmine continued on her path, coming to the edge of the chainlink and letting Jordan down. "We have to go back!" Jasmine refused and pushed Jordan through the fence, following in suit.

"Go, _go_!" Bullets cracked overhead, the flames roaring as they passed the large concrete walls. Rounding the corner, they made it, finding Maggie as promised. Jasmine raced over to her and the two collided, hugging each other close. In the moment, Maggie was confused as to who Jordan was, but they ran anyway. Jude quickly caught up with them at the end of the line. They had made it to the construction site - it had been almost too easy! Jasmine felt the weight on her shoulders lift, as she was sure everyone else did. All four picked up speed, seconds away.

Jasmine felt as if everything had suddenly slowed down as she felt a bullet whizz by her earlobe. The sound was like a tiny jet-plane had shot by her eardrum, and watched in terror as suddenly the bullet collided with Jude's shoulder. With a cry from the boy, he collapsed to the ground in mid-sprint. "Jude!" Maggie screamed.

"Go! **Go**!" the boy cried back. He was writhing on the frozen ground in pain, his voice straining above the gunfire. Maggie and Jordan had jumped over the barricade, and finally, Jasmine followed... She landed, out of the woods now, and continued her b-line for the forest. This was it! She was going to see Carol, she was going to see Glenn, Michonne! Sasha, Abraham, Rick - oh god, even Daryl ! Her step became lighter and she felt as if the greenery was nothing but a blur as she past through the dark woods.

Jasmine suddenly collided with the butt of a gun, and with a bone-shattering pain in her jaw, she was out like a light.

* * *

[ **Author's Note:** ] **_Isn't Jordan the cutest_?! She's so pure: she doesn't deserve to have to struggle through the apocalypse. But here we go. So Jasmine has been through so much so far, especially not after the whole Matthias ordeal. It's also a beautiful moment in a way, given that she sacrifices herself in Maggie's place, considering that she's married to Glenn.**

 **Also, woah. Ow, what an ending! Keep reading to find out what happens next~**


	15. Chapter 15 - Martyrdom

Daryl was sorting out weapons, Carol, Rick and Sasha at his side. They distributed ammunition, cleaned weapons and planned out different tasks for others.. A bit distracted by his own thoughts, he didn't hear Sasha speaking to him until she was frowning, her brows furrowed in frustration. He blinked, trying to clue in to what exactly she had said... but nothing came to mind. He felt Carol and Rick eyeing him for a minute. "I said, why don't you go out and check the snares? You've been trapped inside all day." Hesitating, he exchanged looks with the trio.

"Go on, we've got this covered," Carol encouraged, gently touching his arm. Daryl glanced at the weapons and then cleared his throat, nodding his head. They were correct - being stuck in the lodge was torture. It made him feel as if he were some sort of caged animal. Daryl crossed the foyer and pushed the doors open, not even bothering to grab his coat. The cold air brought him to life as he breathed deeply. Daryl made a b-line straight down the hills and toward the trees. He broke into the underbrush, stepping through the dying vegetation, quiet so as not to alert anything that may be near by.

Daryl wasn't going anywhere in particular: in fact, he wasn't sure he had a plan at all. The snares were east, why was he heading north? He picked his way through bracken and dry grass, the stalks parting with each step he made. The archer soon found himself ascending the slope that lead straight to the river, and before he knew it, he was at the ravine, staring directly at the drying blood on the rocks. He paused, attempting to catch his breath. The cold cut into his flesh like a blade. His gaze washed over the stones for a moment, and then up the ravine, only to fall away.

Pulling out his lighter and his cigarettes, he eyed the slender smokes in the box. He only had a couple left; he needed to save it. Nonetheless, he popped one between his lips and lit the end, feeling the heavy smoke fill his lungs as he inhaled deeply. Daryl stuffed his lighter back into his pocket and found himself sitting down on the edge of the escarpment hanging over the ravine. He took another drag. Jasmine was out there somewhere, he knew it, he just wasn't sure where exactly.

Daryl leaned back down on the grass and shut his eyes. Running his hands over his face, his thoughts began to drift back to his dream from the other night... He had been running. He wasn't sure why, or what he had been looking for. _It had been hot and he had been sweating a great deal. Daryl had been panting, his face ruddy from exertion and his heart bellowing in his chest. Branches scraped his bare arms, his neck, his face. It seemed as if that was all the dream was, was running, and running, and running... until suddenly, he came to an abrupt halt, met with the sight of a familiar head of pale hair. Standing in the sunlight, appearing to have been racing through the woods just as he had, was Beth. Her wide blue eyes blinked at him, mirroring his expression of complete and utter shock._

 _"_ Daryl... where's Jasmine? _" she asked, her words quick and breathy. Daryl was completely dumbfounded. He opened his mouth and then shut it. "_ C'mon, where is she? Shouldn't you be looking for her? _"_ **Beth..** _He reached out and attempted to caress her face. He was met with clammy, buttery-soft skin. It was as if she were really there... the last time he had seen her, there had been a streak of crimson staining her beautiful blonde hair. It had been flawless as he looked upon it, as if none of it had ever happened._

 _"_ Beth... I... I'm sorry... _" Daryl had murmured. Beth looked up at him warily._

 _"_ I know... I'm not stupid. It wasn't your fault either, so its' fine.. _" Beth replied softly. She grasped his trembling hand, and slowly removed it from where it had lain upon her cheek. "_ Right now, you need to forget about me... and focus on findin' her. She's out there, somewhere, and she's relyin' on you and Rick to find her _."_

 _"_ I know, I know, I just _..."_

 _"_ You can do it... _" Beth reached forward and hugged him, which he returned tightly. He never wanted to let go... There was a sharp crackle of undergrowth, and suddenly another familiar voice spit through the air. "_ Still haven't found your damsel, little brother? _" His arms suddenly collapsed as he was now embracing nothing but thin air. Beth was gone? This had never happened before... He almost began to panic, until he looked over toward his brother, who was leaning against a tree with his arms crossed and a smug grin on his face._

 _"_ Better do it quick, time's a' tickin', _" Merle sneered. Daryl gritted his teeth. "_ Oh, have I hurt your feelin's? Don't take it t' heart... _" Daryl shook his head. The last he had seen Merle, he had been gnawing on a fallen soldier's flesh. The look of absolutely nothing in his brother's milky gaze still gave him the chills. "_ You're wastin' time, listening to Officer Friendly and his Deputy of a son. He's jus' slowin' you down. You're never gonna find her in time.. _." His smile disappeared, and suddenly his eyes rolled back in his head. "_ She'll just end up like your precious little sweetheart from the prison.. _"_

 _From somewhere off in the woods, Beth screamed... it hurt to breathe..._

* * *

Daryl jolted awake, a soul-shattering scream piercing the air from off in the distance. He was sweating something awful, and his heart was racing to keep up with the kick of adrenaline. The caterwaul of fear seemed to be coming from somewhere close. Still in a daze from his dream, Daryl scrambled to his feet and raced in the direction of the shriek, going against all instinct which told him otherwise. The archer ran with the agility of a doe running from a predator. He leaped over stumps and skirted around brambles. Just as he was coming close to finding the source of the cries for help, Daryl collided with a branch that knocked him flat on his ass - nice. The archer was stunned and for a moment, all sound was drowned out by the faint ringing in his ears, the pounding of his heart coursing through his entire body. At first it appeared as though he was down for the count, but another cry startled him out of this funk. Daryl regained his bearings and continued on, unaware of the blood trickling from a small cut upon his brow.

As he neared the source of the sound, he prepared himself for what was yet to come. What he came upon was a small child, perched upon a low hanging branch, trying to keep away from the hungry walker below. Swiftly, Daryl came to the child's rescue, putting the beast out of it's misery with a quick stab through it's eye-socket. Daryl quickly sheathed the knife, and looked up the ancient tree. To his surprise, it was a young girl. Her freckled face was framed with wisps of strawberry blond hair, her steel gray eyes as wide as dinner plates. She was perched up upon a thick branch, clinging to the trunk of the tree like a baby 'coon. "You're gonna have t' jump." Daryl called, stretching out his arms. Shifting from foot to foot, he prepared himself for the girl's landing. Refusing to let go, the little girl shook her head rather violently. ' _No_!" she cried.

Frustrated, Daryl continued to urge her to jump, but to no avail. Anyone or anything for that matter could have heard her cries, which caused him great distress. They needed to leave, now. Daryl finally yelled up at the girl, this time packing a punch with the urgency in his voice. "C'mon!" The girl unexpectantly bobbed of her head, replying with more sass than Daryl thought her little body could contain. " _Nuh-uh_ , not 'til I know y'ur name." The archer let out a nervous groan, frustrated by how stubborn she was being. Walkers were beginning to gather suddenly - the first few he had seen since Alexandria. "It's Rick," he quickly responded. He hadn't put much thought into it. Reaching his arms again for the little girl, he stepped closer.

"Oh, you're-"

" _ **Jus' jump**_!" he bellowed.

On weak legs, the child flung herself from the branch, landing in Daryl's open arms, who stumbled back upon impact. Quickly, Daryl set her down. Taking her by the hand, they ran, the groans of the dead trailing behind them. The girl running beside him suddenly tripped and fell, her ankle twist in awkward fashion. The archer had no choice but to carry her on his back for the rest of the way.

With the lodge coming into view, the archer slowed, letting the young girl slide down his back before letting her go. The girl clutched Daryl's arm as he led her to their sanctuary. Once at the top of the hill, Daryl let out a high whistle of warning. Glenn was first to open the door. "Did you find her?" He was a bit too excited for his own good. The girl darted behind Daryl, frightened.

"No," Daryl responded. His tone was blunt. The archer was still rather unimpressed by how the girl had nearly got them both killed. "But I found _this_." The archer moved out of the way, revealing the child. Shyly, she peered up at Glenn, afraid of the Korean as he gawked over at her. Daryl removed his arm from her grasp and stepped inside, leaving her timidly hanging by the door. "You can come in if you'd like.." Glenn offered, crouching down to the little girl's level.

"Not 'til I know I'm safe..." answered the girl. Glenn glanced over at Daryl, who gave a shrug. There was silence. Glenn stood up with a sigh and turned to Daryl.

"Where'd you find her?"

"Not far from the brook..." Daryl murmured.

"Any idea of where she _came_ from?" Daryl glanced over at the girl in the door, and shrugged once again. He honestly had no idea as to what to do. There was a shuffle upstairs and suddenly Carol came bounding down to the kitchen. Her eyes fell upon the little girl and she exchanged glances with Daryl.

"Who's this?" she asked, brows furrowed in concern. Daryl nodded faintly. Carol was soon followed by Rick and Carl, and then finally Abraham. All attention turned to the little girl, who stood there, trembling. She studied the group, her gaze flitting from one person to the next... until they finally fell upon the archer.

"Y're name ain't Rick..." she stated, her lip curled. "You _lied_..." The rest of the group reacted in confusion, glancing at Daryl, who clenched his teeth.

"No, I ain't..." he agreed in a rather bitter tone. The girl gave them all another calculating look.

" _That's_ Rick..." There was a long silence. Everybody's jaw dropped as the girl pointed at their leader. She then withdrew her index by a few inches, thinking long and hard. "And _Carol_..." the girl continued, pointing out each one as she correctly named as many as she could. "And... and _Glenn_..." As she proceeded with her roll-call, Michonne and Sasha curiously peeked down from the stairwell. Her pointer hovered over Abraham. "Ah... uh..." she stammered, rocking on her heels. " _Mot-ton Chaps_... A-Abraham?" Bewildered, the towering ginger nodded and grinned.

"That's right, _wow_!" A look of accomplishment took hold of her features and she beamed, her freckled cheeks turning a soft cerise. "Thank you!"

Daryl was feeling a bit uneasy. "How d'ya know our names?" he asked. He wasn't one to intimidate kids, but not everybody could be trusted. Something about this situation made his gut roll. The little girl frowned and took a step back. The group continued to stare at her with questioning looks. Carol stepped forward, cautiously approaching him. Her delicate fingers rested on the archer's upper arm.

"Why.. miss _Jasmine_... she's back at the bad place," the youngling peeped. She twiddled her thumbs timidly. The entire group stiffened. Glenn strode forward and took hold over her shoulders.

"Is Maggie still alive?!" he exclaimed. The girl drew back, but then nodded softly. "Yeah-yuh. She's okay... we tried to escape, but Jude got himself hurt by a bang-gun." Tears began to gather in the little girl's eyes. "And Reese is still out th're... and- and- and- momma... momma got _sick_ , and they were tak'n to th' _pit_.." Glenn knelt and drew her into a hug. The girl cried softly into his shoulder as he stroked the back of her hair. "Fall'n's gunna hurt 'em... she's gunna hurt 'em _real bad_!" whimpered the girl. Dread filled Daryl to the brim, but he proceeded to watch.

"What's your name, sweetie?" asked Carol. The older woman padded over to the little girl and knelt next to Glenn. Drawing away, the girl rubbed her eyes.

" _Jord'n_..." she replied, timid. Little Jordan looked up at Carol with damp eyes. "Jasmine sa'd you were real nice, Carol... she misses you." The woman smiled solemnly.

"I miss her too... we _all_ do..."

Finally, Jordan turned her head to look at Daryl, her eyes narrowed. Her steel-grey gaze could cut down an entire forest. "Jasmine said you were mean sometimes... but she also said y're real awesome... so I'll let ya off th' hook f'r lyin'..." Amused by the kid's little jab, Daryl arched an eyebrow. The skin stretched, causing the cut upon his brow to burn. The wind from outside suddenly slammed the door shut completely, startling the group out of their silence.

"Jordan, can you tell me where Jasmine and Maggie are?"

"And Jude? They're in th' barn... bein' held for their pun'shm'nt..." Jordan replied. She whimpered again but wiped her eyes, shaking her head. "I'm okay... we need t' worry 'bout them."

"Didn't you hurt y'r ankle?" Daryl piped up. Jordan looked over at him, and for a moment look as if she were about to cry some more. She nodded though, holding back the waterworks. "Maybe you should stay, then?"

" _No_..." Rick interrupted. The group turned their heads. Abraham clapped the leader on his shoulder. Pursing his lips, he nodded.

"She hurt her ankle!" Daryl pointed out, raising his voice. "She'll slow us down.."

"But she knows the place best.." Rick countered. Daryl swallowed back a retort, and turned back to Jordan, who was innocently watching the group. "He's right, y'know.." she peeped. The freckled girl's lashes fluttered, much like Jasmine's whenever she proved a point. His heart sang for a split second. The archer looked away, down at the floor. Nodding eventually, he turned back to Rick.

"Let's find 'em..." Daryl growled, raising his head and shooting a deadly glare of his slate-blue gaze. Rage began to burn in the bottom of his belly, his heart hammering as adrenaline coursed through his veins. He just hoped they would get there in time.

* * *

Dust tickled the inside of Jasmine's nostrils. Her eyes peeled open, and within moments, the pain within her jaw throbbed. Groaning, Jasmine rolled over from where she had been unconscious on her side, and looked up at the ceiling of her confines. There were multiple holes within the roof, having rotten away due to the nasty weather. From up in the rafters, Jasmine spotted a rather fuzzy tail, and before she could move, the remains of a walnut dropped from a great height, and landed upon her face. Brushing it away, she happened to skim the vibrant bruise upon her jaw, and flinched as agony took hold.

Never had she had a bruise like this - it felt as if her entire cheek was on fire from a simple touch of her fingers. Working her sore joints, she slowly began to feel her fingers again. Jasmine sat up fairly quickly, and glanced around, taking in her surroundings. It was musty and dark, and there were multiple bodies laying around her. At first she was unsure as to whether they were alive or dead, but soon she came to the conclusion that she wasn't in danger when one of them shifted in it's sleep.

A familiar set of pipes danced toward her ears. "You're aw-wake?" Jude sat off in the far corner, favoring his wounded shoulder. At the moment, she vaguely remembered the red-crowned boy being shot in the back. He was still bleeding, which mean they had been taken straight to this place upon having been caught. Maggie was fussing over his wound, settled on her knees just behind him. Searching for the third party, she had no such luck.

"Jordan... did she get shot too?" she asked softly. Jude shook his head. Maggie answer her question. "We couldn't find her after we were caught. We're assuming she got free, but we aren't completely sure..." Relief flooded over Jasmine. _Thank God._ Shivering, she brought her knees to her chest and leaned against the back of the wall. Shutting her eyes, she dozed off...

* * *

The trio was kept in the barn for nearly three weeks, tossed slop and other substances for food once in a while. They were being treated like animals... They weren't removed from their confines for a long time, and Jasmine began to wonder if they'd every escape.. Until finally...

Jasmine was suddenly awakened, rudely, by a soldier yanking her up by her wrists. She was tied to Maggie and Jude, as well as a few others who had tried to help them escape. They all looked at each other in fear, whispering to each other in hushed, worried tones. Jasmine strained against the rope, feeling the fibers chew into her skin. There wasn't much time for them to escape, if they would... the brunette and her gang were tugged out of the barn and into the harsh light of the grey world outside. The sky sobbed, leaking tears of sleet as they were marched out toward a thick crowd of people.

What was going on? Was this some sort of _show_? Loud caterwauls of protest and anger escaped the men and woman, booing and howling in a chorus of rage. The group was marched into the corral, the gates clattering behind them. Like animals in a ring, they flinched and kept their heads low, fearing the worst. What was to become of them? As the came to a stop, they were ordered to turn, their bare feet sticking to the damp earth beneath them. As their heads turned up, their attention rested upon Fallon and Blake, soldiers standing at attention in rows just behind them.

She was as powerful as ever, marvelous in the morning light, her mask glinting maliciously in Jasmine's direction. Beads of water ran down the flawless surface, trailing down onto her bare cheek and down her jaw. Fallon - the name suited her well. It was menacing, eerie... evil, _dark_. Her eyes moved on to her brother: regal, tall, powerful. His shoulders back, his arms cast at his sides. His beard was freshly shaven, his intense amber gaze smeared over with charcoal, the dark cloudy marks dragging down the sides of his face like warpaint. Everything about him was sinister, stranger... and just as terrifying, if not more.

This was no longer her brother...

Fallon signaled for Blake to follow, and the two waltzed over. The soldiers behind them forced them to their knees. Jasmine collided with the ground with an audible grunt, the mud sticking to her hands and spattering her face. Her nails gripped into the slippery muck, a growl of frustration escaping her as she began to lose her temper. Jasmine had had enough. As Fallon walked by, she glared at her heavy heeled boots. Her heart began to hammer.

" _Ohhh_... ~" sighed Fallon. "Isn't it just _dreadful_ weather today?" Jasmine quietly listened to her - there wasn't anything she could do right now. Each prisoner was held by a soldier, forced to the ground, a firm hand on their skulls to keep them from looking up. It was like some sort of submissive gesture, like an Omega cowering before an Alpha... Her eyes never left the ground. She noted how the sleet came down in balls of frozen rain, peppering the mud with alabaster and breaking it's dark complexion. Fallon continued to speak, strolling along the line of captured servants. "I'm sure you all understand the penalty for attempting to escape: a lash or two for bad behavior... Unfortunately, you all had the _nerve_ to attempt to overthrow me, and destroy my kingdom. My people could have been killed because of you nasty creatures..."

Alarmed, she swallowed hard. Lashes? What kind of punishment would this be? Her frightened green gaze fluttered over the surface of the sludge before her. She remained still though, keeping herself composed and civil. "I understand, it must be hard being a lowlife. You all really wish you could be somewhere else, yes? With family? _Friends_?" Fallon inquired. She slowed as she neared the bowed woman. "Loved ones?" Gritting her teeth, Jasmine shivered, her muscles trembling against the cold. "Well, frankly, you should all _forget_ about them. In fact, you should all give up hope of ever seeing them again. This is your place now... you are getting what you all _deserve_." Fallon's light tone was now gone, replaced by one that was rather blunt and dry.

"I deeply apologize for the _inconvenience_... but this is what happens when you disobey orders." Jude shifted from beside her, clearly nervous as he stared at the ground just as she was. There was a pause as Fallon turned her attention to her men. "Come now, you don't have to hold their heads down. Let up..." she scoffed. Suddenly, the soldiers released the prisoners one by one. It didn't matter anyway, they were all tied together by the same rope. Jasmine exhaled audibly, and twisted her stiff neck so she could crack it. Her hard gaze focused on somewhere off in the paddock. Movement caught her eye... and Reese plodded out from the crowd, pecking at the frozen ground.

"Now then... I believe it is time to give you the choice of either taking your punishment, or being killed. I'm sure you'd prefer to take the option of the lesser evil, but I can assure you.. you'd prefer it if you were _dead_ rather than struggling with an open lash-wound. Most of you understand what I am saying, as you have taken punishment before." Fallon began to saunter on, continuing to follow down the line. Reese, that's right - he had been left behind when they had been trying to escape. That had been outside in the paddock though... why would he venture all the way up here?

Jasmine tuned back into the moment and suddenly felt Jude shuffle again. He cleared his throat ever so softly, alerting her that something wasn't right. Their eyes met, gazing at one another from the corner of their oculars. His dilute gaze fell soon as Fallon passed them, speaking ill of those around her and proceeding to lecture them on how they had responsibilities. About how they should be honored to be working for her and her royal bloodline. Everything about the situation felt so plastic; so fake, so _false_. It was tacky to Jasmine, and frankly was becoming old hat.

Her anger got the better of her, and suddenly upon impulse, Jasmine spat on Fallon's boot. There was an abrupt moment of gasps and murmurs. The femme felt a sense of accomplishment, feeling the soldier behind her ready to swing at her. At least she would go down with a bit of pride. Unexpectedly, Fallon was the one to strike her with one swift spin and then a kick across the face. Jasmine fell back, colliding with the ground just near Maggie's back end. Rhee stirred and moved to help her as best she could, but Jasmine was yanked up. The taste of blood on her tongue was like an old dear friend - she had honestly missed it. Fallon was never one to do her own dirty work, so the fact that she had been hit by the queen was _oh so satisfying_!

Jasmine smirked, breaking out in a thick chortle. The young woman was forced back down to the ground, yanked up by the short mess of hair upon her crown in order for her to look directly up at Fallon. Jasmine watched as the content sneer that had once laced Fallon's lips faded into a look of disgust, her lip curled. Obviously Jasmine's amusement by her violent action irked the great leader... The blood running from her nose and down into her teeth coated her taste buds. Her grin faded as she sincerely looked up at Fallon. "You think a little kick from you is going to knock me on my ass?" Jasmine jeered. She was suddenly blatantly slapped by the woman before her, which shut her up. Her face was turned down and forced into the frozen earth by the guard behind her.

Fallon audibly cleared her throat, and turned away from the young woman on the ground. "Enough dawdling. It's time to begin... let us begin with the one who started it all!" The crowd began to hoot and howl in anticipation. Jasmine felt a cold drop of fear run down her spine as she spoke. Oh, so she wasn't going to save her for last? Wrenching herself free from the officer's grip on her hand, Jasmine turned her attention to the leader, watching as her arm stretched out to point directly at Jude. The boy's eyes became as wide as saucers. The entire row of prisoners gawked and began to protest, but one look from Blake suddenly silenced them.

Within moments, his restraints were severed from the main lifeline they were all tied to, and he was dragged over to one of the singular sturdy posts. The boy was secured to the pillar, and Fallon made for a rather expensive-looking chair not far from where her soldiers stood shoulder to shoulder at attention. Settling down in her seat, Fallon perched her elbow upon the armrest, and leaned the side of her face into her hand. "Proceed!" she ordered, waving her opposite hand in a indiscreet manner. No... Jude hadn't done anything wrong - _nobody had_.

The winter wind cut through Jasmine as she sat there, on her knees, completely mortified as Blake was handed a long, intimidating whip. The brute's hand clenched the weapon's shaft as if it were second-nature, giving it a graceful crack in the air. The crowd's cries of applause grew in volume. Jasmine and the others all flinched, completely terrified. Maggie pressed against the woman next to her, trembling. The two attempted to look away, cowering into each other as if for comfort, but they were shoved. The soldiers behind them barked at them to look, and eventually ended up forcing their heads up. Jasmine bared her teeth, having to resist the urge to lash out at the guard as he held the two's hair.

Her cranium turned, and her eyes locked onto Fallon. Blake took his place before Jude, who gaped up at the massive man. Her body visibly trembled, his lip quivering. Jasmine's gaze burned into the leader's alabaster cloak. The sleet was turning into flurries of snow, the gusts of wind chewing at her skin like some sort of hungry unseen force. Fallon appeared to notice her, and lifted her chin up off where it rested. Oh, for the love of God!

" _Stop this_!" the femme cried, but her protests were drowned out by the exclamations and gasps from the crowd. Fallon's hand had raised just as Blake had prepared to swing the whip. "I believe that there is something that Jasmine wishes to say..." she announced. The crowd fell into hushed whispers and murmurs. Maggie and the other prisoner were released, allowing them the freedom to look where ever they pleased.

Narrowing her eyes, Jasmine proceeded to glower in her direction. There was a moment of silence as every single pair of peepers turned to her, taking her in in anticipation. Her head dropped. _Oh..._ she thought. Jasmine understood what Fallon was trying to do. Her gut wrenched and she clenched her teeth. Within seconds of turning up her head, she spoke. " **I wish to be punished first**!" Maggie tensed and was visibly watching something off at the side of the corral. Fallon's soft lips slowly curled up in a dirty smirk of satisfaction. Blake turned to his leader, a look of bewilderment and inquiry upon his features. Shouts of protest erupted from the crowd as they spoke their opinion of the situation.

Jasmine felt her soul fizzle out - they all wanted her dead. Her gaze drifted over the clutter of people. She must have been seeing things, she assumed, as Jasmine could have sworn she saw Michone's hooded figure duck into the throng of people. "Very well..." Fallon finally agreed. Baring her teeth as the soldier behind her dug his nails into her hair, she was lifted and heaved to her feet. Jasmine willing allowed herself to be pulled forward. Her eyes met Jude's as the two passed each other. " _You do-don't have to do this_!" he breathed once within earshot. Her head turned, her gaze following the boy. No, _she did_. It was the only way for Fallon to get what she wanted.

The men slammed her to the post, holding her up against it and twisting her arms up high enough in order to inflict pain upon her if she attempted to escape.. it was impossible. Bound and readied, the wind practically slapped her in the face as she was exposed. Her knees hovered inches from the ground, her head cocked to the side as she looked up at her brother... who evidently looked upon her with what appeared to be a mixture of disgust and horror. Whether it was directed at her specifically, or was a reaction to the fact that he had to harm his little sister - Jasmine didn't know.

She couldn't feel her fingers anymore, nor her toes. The rope bit into her flesh, prickling uncomfortably. It hadn't been woven tight enough, and thus was a bit frayed. Her head fell and she felt her throat lock up. Panic began to take hold as her brother moved closer. Blake reached down and took hold of her chin, turning her face up toward him. Fear hit her like a goddamn truck, and she began to panic.

"Look at you, baby sister..." Blake marveled. "I've punished many of people before, but I never suspected I'd live to see the day that _you'd_ be tied to this post, at my mercy.. You really _have_ changed." Jasmine's keen eyes widened up in her brother's direction. He rolled the whip in his hand, and gave it a gentle lash at the air beside her. Jasmine cried out, jerking her head away. Her ear sang a high-pitched tune as it recovered from the loud sound. "You used to be so sweet, so _tamable_. I thought you'd fit right in - follow the rules.. damn, _was I so fuckin' wrong_."

Blake's eyes were frighteningly cold, his expression rather blank and careless, almost as if he were bored. "It's people like you that will end civilization as we know it... Fallon will restore justice. She _will_ rise, and I won't let anyone get in her way. Not even if that person is my own flesh and blood." Jasmine gritted her teeth.

" _You aren't my brother_ ," she hissed. Blake almost looked hurt for a moment, but it was wiped away. The wind howled in her ears, the shouts from the crowd growing louder as he took a step back. His expression said, so be it. Rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck, he prepared himself to harm his poor sister. Jasmine felt pathetic... so this was how it would end? If she were lucky enough to survive, she would suffer, and continue with this existence.. This lousy excuse for a life.

Blake drew back, and protests escaped the prisoners behind her. There was a movement in the crowd. The wind screamed again, snow stinging her face. The blood on her tongue suddenly made her feel ill as all her confidence was lost. Maggie was yelling so loud that her voice was becoming hoarse. The sound of Reese's own squawks hit the air, adding to the noise. The snow danced in the air. Her eyes slowly washed over her surroundings... and then finally turned up, terrified of her brother. Blake looked upon her like he would some sort of bug. Panic shot through her, and she began to gently shake her head. "No... _please_ , Blake... don't.. _don't do this_!" Jasmine pleaded.

"I'm sorry, sis.." For a moment, Jasmine saw the young man who had once been the boy who had pulled her hair or smeared paint on her face; the boy who had teased her for her skinniness. She caught a glimpse of the man who had told her that she had looked like a boy with her short hair, the man who had wanted her to be part of the community and live as if the apocalypse was no longer.

Within the cacophony of the congregation, Jasmine heard the faint sound of.. strangely enough, familiar voices. It was only for a split second, before Blake raised his weapon. Jaw dropping, eyes widening, she gawked for a moment as the weapon was raised. Swallowing hard, Jasmine's eyes clenched shut and she turned her head in an act of cowardice. Her entire body tensed and she prepared for impact.

There was the sound of sudden chaos. Maggie screamed -

" _I swear to god- stop_!" Rick?

The whip cracked, the harsh sound splitting the air-

A harsh cry of pain followed, one which stunned her, shaking her to the bone-

Oh god, _she knew that voice_!

Jasmine opened her eyes, completely appalled by what she saw before her. Her savior was hovered over her, his hand just centimeters above her head. A hot spray of blood spattered her face. What- He was inches away from her: his head wrenched back, his spine arched against the whip's bite.

Rick's scream echoed in the hollow silence.

" ** _Daryl_**!"

* * *

[ **Author's Note:** ] **(shrieking) This is awful! Jasmine, Maggie and Jude are all in for it. Fallon is honest both the best and the worst person on the planet. Actually, my best friend helped me create her- she's incredible, and you'll find out why very soon.**

 **Why does she wear the mask? What is she hiding? Who is Fallon?**

 **Also, _what the actual f*ck Daryl_?! Where did the group come from?**


	16. Chapter 16 - Rebuke

The archer's knife clattered to the ground and after the moment of tension, his body relaxed and his head fell. Daryl was panting, his hot breath hitting her frozen neck as he drooped. " _J- az_..."

Completely aghast, Jasmine's throat locked up and tears sprung from her eyes. Her gaze flitted over him; his hair in his face, his posture - she was at a complete loss for words, the femme's mouth agape as she stared. How was he still standing? Her eyes trailed up toward Blake. Silence filled the air. Fallon instantly rose from her throne, just as confused and shocked as everyone else. Suddenly, a slow rhythm began to erupt from the crowd as they clapped in unison. Gasping, she looked up toward her brother. They wanted more. Her brother stared down for a moment, unsure of what had just happened...

Processing the situation at hand, his eyes trailed over the man's bare upper torso, his gaze lingering upon the fresh wound on his shoulder and upper back. She shifted and struggled, realizing in the moment that the archer had managed to split enough of the rope's fibers just before he had received the laceration. Oh god, everything was so loud! Maggie was sobbing loudly from the back of the pen. Blake suddenly took a step back, stiffening and preparing for another more powerful lash. This earned another cry for mercy from the row of prisoners, tugging at their restraints. Slowly, Daryl's gaze turned up to meet Jasmine's. She let out a few whimpers and shook her head, completely rattled. She felt the archer's movement as he braced himself, and with a cry at the last minute, Jasmine broke what was left of her restraints and lunged for the archer.

The whip cut through the air by only a few inches before the crack of a bullet exploded overhead. In a cloud of blood, Blake's ring, index, and middle finger were all blasted to pieces, the weapon flying from his hand as he let out an enraged bellow of pain. The crowd scattered and in moments, the outcasts were set free, a few of the soldiers that had taken them to the paddock rebelling. Daryl collapsed onto Jasmine and the two fell to their knees.

Gunfire broke out, whizzing to and fro. It was all-out war, a complete rebellion. As Blake rose, Jude and a few others managed to wrestle him down and hold him back. Jasmine was soon accompanied by a very fretful Maggie. "Daryl, you idiot! Wake up!" Jasmine sobbed, nudging him, attempting to wake him up somehow. The archer's eyes fluttered and his head rolled, and for a moment he looked as if he were about to respond. Unfortunately, his body stilled as he slipped out of consciousness. Through a film of tears, Jasmine watched as her group created a circle around them, weapons drawn and raised. They wore clothes that she had only worn by soldiers within Hatchback Grove: bits and pieces of S.W.A.T outfits. Disguises. Clever.

Jordan suddenly popped out from between Rick's legs, Maggie diving in for a hug. She was clean and sparkling - a little ray of sunshine! Jasmine was frozen to the spot as she hovered over the fallen archer. "Oh my god, how did you escape?" Maggie astonished. The little girl wriggled from her arms and demanded to be set down. Walkers were beginning to rise from where they had fallen, reanimated as a shell of their living selves. Smoke filled the air, the flurries of snow picking up speed.

In an instant, their leader turned and tossed each of them their weapons. Unsure of exactly how they managed to find them, Jasmine was completely caught off guard. She held her ronins tightly in her grip. It was as if some unseen force had brought their saviors to their rescue. "No time now, we have to go!" Rick demanded. The group began to move, helping Daryl - barely conscious - to his feet. Abraham swung his arm over his shoulders, hoisting him up and supporting the injured archer. They darted for cover, and although disoriented, Maggie and Jasmine kept up. Michonne and Glenn flanked, Rick clearing a path, the girls (albeit weak from such atrocious treatment) covering at the tail end of their flock.

They struck down the undead in their way, running past people in need of help, saving their own hides. This was an awful place- it deserved to burn. Fires were lit in different buildings; vehicles crashed, their alarms screaming. The crackling flames and moans of the dead filled the air, cries of terror mingling in with the slew of sound. Jasmine's heart pounded in her ears, and all she could do now was stare at Daryl's bleeding wound. He was stumbling rather than walking, hanging off Abraham as he slumped to the side.

Rounding the corner, they burst through the heavy door leading to the paddock. Scattered walkers began shambling in their direction, but they continued on. They didn't stop until Rick was met by two or three. Michonne removed herself from formation and with a quick lash of her blade, she severed one head, and completely split another. Grey matter, oozing and mucky, spattered everywhere. Jasmine, anger burning inside her, let out a caterwaul and lunged forward, taking on a rather tall male, his tongue lolling from his mouth. The muscle was torn, clearly from the gnashing jaws of the walker. Mucus and drool fell from it's disgusting partially rotten molars as it gurgled inches from her face. With a hand upon it's throat, Jasmine embedded her ronin into it's skull.

Maggie shot a female that had managed to almost get a hold of Jasmine. If it hadn't have been for her short hair, she could have been easily grabbed and tugged to her demise. Jasmine struggled to remove her tomahawk, but eventually was successful.

"C'mon, go! _Go_!" Rick urged, bellowing above the moans. The group pushed through and eventually made it to the fence. Skidding down the side of the slope, Glenn and Rick quickly helped everyone over the fence. Just before he had managed to hoist Jordan up, he earned a screech of protest.

"Reese! Reese, he's still in there!" she cried. Rick, completely confused, looked over his shoulder. In the moment, she couldn't believe what was before her eyes - the leader looked across the field in utter horror as the chicken weaved through the dead, sqwuaking in terror. Maggie was, to her surprise, laughing. "C'mon Rick, she can't leave without her _chicken_!"

Jordan and Rick argued, the leader attempting to convince her that they had to continue on, but he soon gave in. Jordan was handed to Maggie, and the group raced for the treeline. Bullets began to whiz by their heads, jarred by the sounds of explosions detonating on the inside of Hatchback Grove. Looking over her shoulder, she caught a glimpse of the leader racing across the paddock, straight for the chicken. Reese leaped for the man, straight into his arms. As quick as he could, Rick pinwheeled around and practically flew back as fast as his legs could carry him.

The group was laughing so hard that their sides hurt. It was oddly inappropriate for them to simply stop and watch. Once he was over the fence, he signaled for them to keep running. The possy turned and raced for the path. It didn't take long for Rick to catch up, handing Jordan her chicken in mid-sprint. Once all together once more, the group didn't waste time in relocating their escape vehicle. Upon arrival, Abraham and Jasmine made it there first, helping Daryl into the back seat. Michonne and Rick leaped into the front.

"Go, go, _go, **go**_!" Glenn urged, climbing through the back of the partially destroyed vehicle. Maggie clung to her husband, the Korean taking hold of the frame of the automobile and hanging on for dear life. Jordan climbed over everybody and plopped down between the driver and his passenger up in the front, Reese settling in her lap.

" _I'm goin', I'm goin_ '!" he screamed. The vehicle was tense for a moment as the engine stalled, but then thankfully kicked to life with a throaty rumble. Jasmine and Abraham began to apply pressure to Daryl's wound, who was groaning in pain, his eyes fluttering once more as he began to lose himself once again. The jeep tore through the undergrowth like a beast on the run. Screaming onto the tarmac, the group hit the open road and sped in the direction of the lodge. The survivors weren't out of the woods just yet. Daryl fell unconscious, the group was arguing back and forth, and Glenn and Maggie were nearly tumbling out of the vessel.

The wind was cold, and cut through all of them like a knife, howling in their ears and drowning out their quarreling. The entire group was panicking, but one thing was inevitable: one of their men having been injured and slowly bleeding his life away. They had to get him back as fast as they could, lest they'd lose him.

* * *

Rick didn't bother to signal - Sasha already knew once they were spotted and Daryl wasn't running up the hill. The doors flew open and Rick hollered up to Carol. The woman came flying down the stairs, and raced for the first-aid kit in the back. Carl came downstairs, Judith in arms, who was beginning to cry. "What happened?!" exclaimed the boy.

"Daryl got in between Jasmine and a whip!" Michonne explained as quickly as possible. Abraham and Glenn hoisted Daryl onto the kitchen table, working together to keep him on his side, as he lay unconscious. Jasmine, once again, had blood upon her hands. Swallowing her fear, she took her own place around the table. Carol reappeared, towels, a needle and medical thread, and bandages in hand. "Maggie, the whiskey," she ordered. The woman did not flinch, she did not cry. She didn't show even the slightest bit of fear. Jasmine was in awe. Maggie set to grabbing the alcohol from the cupboard and drenched the one side of the towel in the potent liquid.

Dabbing the wound, there was a tense silence, until suddenly the archer came-to upon the sting and cringed, letting out a bark of pain. He writhed, his hands curling into fists. Everyone spoke to him, trying to get him to calm down. Daryl acknowledged them, clenching his teeth and screwing his eyes shut. He visibly stopped breathing as he began holding his breath. After cleaning the wound, Carol readied the needle, threading the medical wire through. The sight made Jasmine's stomach turn. She felt bile rush up her throat and covered her mouth. Managing to swallow it back, she began to panic, shallow breaths escaping her lips.

Carol punctured his skin, and began to slowly stitch the wound. Daryl began to struggle once more, crying out and panting heavily as he attempted to suppress his reactions. He understood that all would have to go smoothly if he wanted to keep himself alive. Jasmine let out a squeak and covered her ears as Daryl suddenly lashed out and gripped Rick by the shirt, his cries growing in volume as the procedure continued. She couldn't stand hearing Daryl's yelps and cries, it was torture. Jasmine began to hyperventilate, and stumbled back, only to be caught by Michonne and Maggie. The two escorted her away from the turmoil in the kitchen and into the foyer. She shambled over to where she was guided, and sat down. Jasmine bowed her head, staring at the ground and sobbing so hard that she struggled to breathe. Wrapping a blanket around her, the women held her while as her body trembled. No matter how hard she clamped her hands over her ears, Jasmine could still hear Daryl's cries.

She felt trapped.

* * *

A sharp pop from the fireplace startled Jasmine out of her rather restless dreamscape. The young woman had fallen asleep, she and Maggie in each other's arms. The soft sound of shuffling upstairs alerted her that Daryl had been transported up to his bedroom. Jasmine shot up, but was abruptly calmed by Michonne, who told her to keep resting. She refused. On unsure legs, she glided up the stairs, finding some kind of new energy as she reached the hallway. Jasmine darted across the carpet, and grabbed hold of the door frame in order to slow herself as she skidded up to the entrance. The door was being abruptly shut as Rick stepped into the hall. Having nearly collided with the leader, the two reacted in surprise and apologized to each other. Jasmine's attention washed over the man. He looked exhausted, as if he hadn't slept for weeks, sweat upon his brow. Honestly, she felt bad for worrying the man, but at the moment, she was more concerned for the archer that lay beyond those doors.

"Thought he could use the rest, so we brought him up here. Gave him some painkillers, so he's out cold," Rick explained. Her brows furrowed, her expression of concern never leaving her face. "For now, Carol is gonna keep an eye on him, in case he wakes up or his heart rate drops. He lost some blood, so its best to make sure he's under supervision... things are looking bright though, so I wouldn't worry too much." Jasmine let out a sigh of relief, pressing a flat palm against her heart.

"That's good..."

"Now, have you or Maggie _eaten_ yet? Maybe you should clean yourself up..." Rick suggested. He was now focused on her, his blue eyes lingering over her cuts and bruises, and her messy hands and feet. "Your shirt is torn..." Jasmine shied away as Rick reached for her shoulder. Unfortunately, he caught a glance at the graze-wound. It was healing up nicely, but it still concerned him. She had to admit, it was still tender, but she couldn't do much about it. "Was this what Carol meant by shot?" Rick asked.

Furrowing her brows, she looked away. "I suppose so... it happened when we were trying to get away - when we were ambushed." Jasmine avoided his eyes as she remembered what had happened the night Rick had been drunk. The thought made her feel uncomfortable.

"Well, maybe go take a bath and relax. I'll see if I can get you some clean clothes... then I'll bring th' water. Go on." Rick was being incredibly generous right now. It was comforting to know how much he cared. It was a huge change, since she was now used to rough treatment. Jasmine nodded and walked the rest of the way down the hall to the bathroom. She stepped inside, the cool tile on the bottom of her feet causing her to jerk. It surprised her. Jasmine quietly closed the door behind her.

The lodge smelled musty and old, just as she had remembered. The windows were milky with age, the curtains open, revealing the blizzard outside. The entire lodge was unusually warm... she assumed that it was because of the sudden burst of human activity. The halls seemed wider than she remembered, the ceilings higher, the carpet softer - everything seemed heavenly compared to the previous conditions she had been in. While lost in thought, there was a knock at the door. To Jasmine's surprise, Maggie padded in, carrying the large bucket of hot water. Assisting the woman, the two filled the tub. It took a few moments for the water to cool, the girls chatting over a bubble bath she had managed to find.

It smelled of gentle vanilla, which warmed her to the brim and gave her the chills. "Would you like to take a bath _together_?" she asked softly. Jasmine was caught off guard by her sudden request. Of course the two had been through so much together, but she was still nonetheless a bit shy when it came to the idea.

"Sorry. My sister and I used to always bathe together back at the farm, so I don't really see the problem," Maggie apologized, smiling softly. Her dimples were so cute. Maggie really was such a beautiful woman. "I understand if you'd rather not.." Jasmine swallowed gently and considered the idea. Damnit, she was honey-tongued as well. Always knew how to convince someone.

"I suppose it would save the trouble of wasting another bucket," she answered, shrugging softly as she pulled off her shirt. Maggie nodded. The two undressed and slipped into the bath together. They both hissed, but ended up in a bundle of giggles. The foam from the bubble bath rose from the movement in the warm water. Maggie proceeded to wash Jasmine's back and hair, leaving the rest to herself. The young femme returned the favor, and soon they both smelled faintly of vanilla.

"Maggie?" Glenn called softly from the doorway. The door creaked open, and they squealed, covering themselves. Maggie tossed the sponge at him, the sopping tool colliding with his chest. He slammed the door, babbling apologies, his face burning red. Laughter echoed through the bathroom, bouncing off the walls.

Once the water was cool, the two got out and dried off, wrapping themselves in their towels and then draining the tub. The entire bathroom smelled like a boutique, and Jasmine loved it. It was the simple things that the girls missed: simple girly things that they rarely had a chance to do. Leaving the bathroom, they parted ways, giggling softly as they escaped to their rooms. Jasmine slipped into her's and shut the door, her eyes flitting over her room. Taking a deep breath, she sighed. Taking to her dresser, she brushed her short hair, and took herself in. She was no longer scuffed up and muddied. Sure, her jaw was still yellowish-green and there was a tender cut on her cheekbone, but other than that... she looked okay.

Jasmine let out a soft sigh and applied deodorant for the first time in a long time - Maggie was a wizard with hygiene products. She always knew were to find them, which comforted her. Daryl could use some himself, if only he'd actually bathe! The young woman pulled on her undergarments, and then her beige cargo pants. Tugging her belt tight, she noted that she had dropped a few pounds. Frowning, she shrugged. She'd live... personally, Jasmine just wasn't hungry lately. In fact, she wasn't hungry at all. Shivering, the femme pulled on her AC/DC high-collar, and pulled on the flannel Maggie had given her. The chilly air on her bare belly caused her a bit of discomfort, but she ignored it. This was all she had until everything was washed.

Wandering down the hall, she enjoyed the feeling of the carpet beneath her toes. It was something she had missed. Jasmine quietly strolled down the hall, trailing her fingers along the walls and door frames. Curiously, she wondered what laid past the end of the hallway the group resided in. It had been empty, thankfully, but it just.. sat there. Pausing, she turned her head and peered down the passage, her eyes drifting over the frosty window at the very end. The thought of the snow outside caused her to shiver. It looked awfully cold. The wind was howling outside like some sort of mourning banshee. Jasmine noted how quiet the cabin was... eerily so. Everybody was on edge, waiting for something to go wrong - for something to happen.

The femme was startled by the sound of the door opening just a few paces away from her. Carol quietly latched it shut behind herself, spotting her. Her features took on a look of moderate surprise. "Oh, Jasmine. You look a lot better," she remarked cheerfully. The older woman approached and took Jasmine by the hand, pulling her into a hug. The girl was caught off guard, and for a moment hesitated, much like Daryl would.

"Y-Yeah... I _feel_ better," she replied, wrapping her arms around Carol. The older woman pulled away and looked her over. "How's he doing?"

"He hasn't woken up... I think he's fine, Rick is just being a worry wart." Carol and Jasmine continued down the hall together, coming to the banister. "Then again... he did intervene in order to protect you." A heavy sigh escaped Carol, who looked off toward the foyer below. Carol shook her head.

"I... I didn't expect that. He was just suddenly there - they all were. As if someone sent them there. As if it were meant to happen. I thought I would be the one suffering from that wound..." She bit the inside of her cheek for a moment, follow her gaze. "Maybe if I hadn't have agreed to escape no one would have gotten hurt." Jasmine's eyes dropped and Carol reached forward, caressing her face.

"Don't blame yourself..." The motherly woman crouched every so slightly so she could meet her eyes. "If we all blamed ourselves for what has happened, we wouldn't be here today." Carol was right. She turned her head up and nodded softly. Jasmine offered her a tender smile, and the two women chuckled. "He'll be alright.."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

* * *

Jasmine was slowly pried from the velvety veil of sleep by the sound of her door creaking open. The floorboards shifted and suddenly her blankets were pulled back. There was only a gentle glow of morning light within her chambers, yet it still hurt her eyes as she slowly opened them. Rolling over and lifting her head off her pillow, Jasmine looked questioningly up at the person disturbing her. Her heart nearly dropped into her stomach as she laid eyes upon Daryl Dixon. He was dressed in his button-up, leather jacket and his vest once again, his crossbow swung over his uninjured shoulder.

"C'mon, we're leavin'. Get up," he urged. His hoarse voice was comforting in a way, hearing it for the first time in quite a long time. It was far better from the sounds escaping him the day before. Her eyes were pinched against the faint light in her room. "Daryl?" she grumbled. "What are you doing up?" He continued to pull off the blankets, and then commenced his usual routine of tossing the bag onto her bed, as well as her hunting clothes and her weapons. "Don't matter, _c'mon_.." he pressed.

"No, seriously," she mumbled, sitting up. "You're supposed to be resting- we both are.." Daryl remained silent. Finally, he finished what he was doing and made for the door. "Just get up," he pressed again. Disappearing into the hall, Daryl completely ignored her as she called after him. Frustration smoldered in her belly. Pulling herself out of bed, she pulled on her torn jeans, buckling the belt and sheathes. She quickly grabbed the bag and her shirt, tugging off her nightshirt and throwing on the low-cut shirt. It was black, long-sleeved. Most likely belonged to Carol at one point, although Carol didn't usually wear such low-hanging clothing.

Quickly, she followed after Daryl. "Daryl, seriously. Rick is going to _kill_ you," she cautioned. He still ignored her as he slipped down the staircase. He was so goddamn stupid! It didn't take her long to reach the door with him. She pulled on her boots, beginning to lace them. Impatient, the archer tossed her denim and leather jacket on her head. Jasmine sputtered, startled, and flailed. A frustrated growl escaped her as she heard him opening the door. The wind screamed in, the cold hitting them like a wall. Bolting upright, she pulled her jacket off her head and pushed her hands into the sleeves, zipping it up. She proceeded to reach into the pocket and tug on a pair of gloves, before she too, followed him in suit.

Daryl was standing out on the porch, his shoulders rigid as he gazed off at something not far from him. Rick stood at the bottom of the steps, his arms crossed and a brow raised. "I checked the snares already..." he said. Jasmine peeked out from behind the archer and over at the leader. He was giving them quite the dirty look. "Go back inside..."

"Rick, I'm fine..." Daryl countered. The leader stepped up onto the veranda and came close. For a moment, Jasmine thought Rick was going in for a kiss. The idea made her giggle. Rick narrowed his eyes at the archer, who held his ground. "You shouldn't be forcing Jasmine to go out either. You both need to rest.. you aren't ready to be out scavenging - at least not in this weather."

There was a moment of tension. "I told you..." Jasmine murmured softly. Rick shot her a glance, but his attention soon returned to Daryl. The archer shook his head and, giving up, turned and walked inside. His head was lowered in defeat. Jasmine felt a bit bad for the archer- He had almost made it out... but she knew that it was best.

Jasmine fell behind as Daryl walked back upstairs, turning to Rick. "I can see that your morning began just as pleasantly as mine..." he retorted. Chuckling, Jasmine shrugged. "Could've been a lot worse. I don't mind when he wakes me up..." Rick grinned. The two took to the kitchen and began to heat up some water. Thanks to Daryl, Jasmine now had her favorite tea. He had managed to find it it in a corner store they had been searching, and had surprised her. It had been sweet of him.

"Well, I can tell you that it's a lot better than a hungry toddler screaming to wake you up," Rick mused. The two shared a cup of tea together, and Jasmine told him about what had happened back at Hatchback Grove... well, most of it. As she finished her drink, Rick reached over and caught her arm just before she could move to place it in the sink. He tugged her into him and swooped down, pressing his lips to her's.

Jasmine froze completely, taken aback for a moment. It was so sudden, so quick. He hadn't even given her a warning. She explored the feeling, still unsure of how to react. Rick's scruff irritated her skin, but his lips were soft and warm. Jasmine shut her eyes. There were a few seconds before finally, it was over. His hold on her arm loosened and he drew away. Rick's blue eyes flitted over her face. "I didn't think I'd see you again..." he whispered. Jasmine frowned and gently pushed him away.

"Rick, I-"

There was the sound of Sasha's whistle, and then a sudden pounding on the door, muffled voices coming from outside. Jasmine dropped her mug, the sound of it clattering to the floor adding to the kerfuffle. Rick rounded the island, Jasmine hot on her heels. " _Sasha, what's goin' on_?!"

"It's Jude!" she thundered from upstairs. The whole household came to life. Daryl and Abraham were in the foyer with them in a matter of minutes. Rick drew his gun and approached the door. Just before he managed to open the knob, it jiggled. Quickly, the leader threw open the door, and there stood Jude and Emma, surrounding Fallon - of all people. The tables had turned, and the woman was bound, a gun to her head. Jasmine was startled and stumbled back, frightened by the sight of the wicked woman. It brought so many memories back, so many things she didn't want to remember. Daryl soon arrived at her side, his crossbow raised just as it had been the first time Jude had walked through those doors. The archer protectively cast his hand in front of her.

"What the fuck is goin' on?" Rick demanded.

"We managed to escape and we've brought you a present," Jude replied. The redhead dropped Fallon onto the nearest chesterfield. Rick suddenly pressed his gun into his fiery crown. "You betrayed us - why should we let you stay?"

"I'm already her-ere," Jude answered. He slowly rose from where he stood, confident that Emma had her hostage. "W-we can discuss this la-later: right now we need to secure her so she can't get away." Rick gawked at him. There was a moment of heavy silence. Reese scuttled by his feet, causing him to jolt, startled.

"I've taken in a weird little girl and her rooster, my men have been injured and mistreated... and now I'm being asked to take in the woman who attempted to _kill_ my _family_?" Rick inquired, disbelief twisting his features. He curled his lip and shook his head, raising his gun. " ** _Get out_**."

Jude raised his hands, and set down his gun. "Listen, I'm ju-just asking that you he-hear me out..."

"Rick, listen to him. We could use her.. what if her men try and take Jasmine and Maggie back?" Michonne piped up. "If we have their leader, they're _powerless_. They'll be desperate to get her back." The leader's eyes flickered and he allowed his head to lower.

Daryl shifted next to her, clearly uncomfortable. She could feel the tension in his body, simply by the way he stood. How could this man simply rest for a day or two and then be back on his feet, as if the whip had never even come near him? Jasmine looked away, but stepped closer to him, placing her hand on his lower back. It seemed to give him confidence, and he adjusted his grip on his weapon.

"Abraham, go make sure that the post downstairs in the boiler room is secure enough to tie her to. Michonne, you'll be in charge of the alternating shifts. Maggie and Jasmine excluded, keep that in mind.." Rick finally decided to keep her around. He suddenly turned to Carol, who looked at him expectantly. "Carol, go take Jude and - what's your name ma'am?" Rick's busy eyes turned to the woman with the gun to Fallon's head.

" _Emma_ ," she answered, meek and timid. Rick nodded and continued giving orders. "Take Jude and Emma upstairs. You know the drill - get them to clean up, get them fresh clothes." With a nod, the older woman gestured toward the two. Jude turned to Emma, who nervously tightened her grip on her pistol. Jude attempted to comfort the woman. "I-It's okay. She's t-tied up.." With a nervous glance at Fallon and then Carol, she eventually lowered her gun. Once the trio headed upstairs as they were told to do, Glenn and Rick stepped aside. Meanwhile Carl stood by the couch, his weapon in hand as he watched over the prisoner for his father.

Jasmine got a good look at her. Fallon was settled on the couch, her legs splayed out and her head low. Her flawless raven hair was tangled, her hood no longer covering her head. The femme, once graceful and confident, now looked measly and small. It was oddly satisfying, and yet as she still looked upon Fallon in her restraints, as weak as could be... Jasmine was still uneasy. Daryl seemed to be receiving the vibes, shifting where he stood again. The young woman turned her head to the archer and gently clasped the back of his vest. "Daryl," she chided. "It's okay now. You can put down your crossbow.." The archer took a deep breath through his nostrils and wrinkled his nose, ignoring her. Evidently, she reached forward and lowered his arms herself. He moved in an inelegant manner, his jaw clenching visibly in the dim light. Daryl was masking the pain, it was clear. "Why don't we go upstairs...?" she offered.

Giving in, his arms became slack and he turned to Jasmine. "I can change your bandages, if you'd like..." she suggested calmly. The archer nodded gently. Abraham returned, and their attention turned away. "Everythin' is ready downstairs. When does Rick wanna move her?" he asked.

"Probably once we decide whether or not to kill her," Daryl replied dryly.

"That would be too abrupt. We need information... and that's what we'll get." Abraham frowned at Daryl, who held his gaze for a moment longer. He eventually nodded, understanding that he couldn't let his own anger toward's the woman cloud his better judgement. As the men continued their conversation, Jasmine listened closely, but her attention moved across the room, and over to the woman in chains. Her head remained lowered, her mask reflected the firelight. Uncomfortable, she shifted where she stood.

"Hey, you okay, Jaz?" Daryl suddenly asked. She was pulled out of her daze.

"Uh- _yeah_ , yeah.. just.." Jasmine couldn't explain right now. Her eyes drifted back to Fallon. The archer's attention followed, and soon he understood.

"Oh.. don't worry about her. She can't hurt a _fly_ right now. Those chains'll keep her from gettin' away." Daryl was closer than she had remembered, hovering there, crossbow in hand. It was pointed toward the ground, safety on (hopefully). Jasmine swallowed nervously and covered up with a smile.

"Oh, I know, I just don't like remembering what happened..." Daryl studied her for a moment, and then softly dipped his head in agreement. It had been a while since Jasmine had been able to see Daryl's slate-blue eyes. Since she had returned, the archer had been locked in his room, sleeping most likely. Jasmine knew that the wound would scar, and thus she understood how awful it must have been to go through the agony of the process. Daryl proceeded to talk to her. "She ain't nothin' now. Don't let her see that she gets to you..." Offering a gentle smile, Jasmine looked up at him, her keen gaze meeting his. It was comforting, in a way. She understood that on her own, she was strong, but with Daryl finally at her side again, she felt a bit more confident in herself.

"So _this_ is the famous Daryl I was told about?" Her stomach dropped as Fallon's voice cut through the air like a knife. "The same man who saved you from our little trap, the same man who took _precious Jasmine's_ punishment for us at the last minute..." Rick and Glenn were at their feet, staring at her with eyes ablaze. All blood drained from her face. Daryl shifted, clearly agitated now.

Fallon's head slowly turned up to the scruffy man to her right. "Oh, don't stop talking on my account," she chided, smiling. "I just wanted to speak with Jasmine. Might I say, I am _impressed_. You have the nerve to stay loyal to these _dogs_ even after I offered you the life of a _queen_?"

"Hey, _how 'bout you shut your mouth_?" Daryl growled, striding forward. Jasmine caught him by the arm, Rick and Glenn raised their hands, ready to get between the two.

"Gladly. You reek so bad that I can _taste_ it," Fallon shot back, a smirk lacing her lips. Daryl let out a snarl of rage and wrenched Jasmine off of him. Rick and Glenn grappled him in an instant, and the archer admitted defeat soon after. Daryl almost seemed to deflate, grabbing for his injured shoulder. Jasmine felt a bolt of fear jolt through her.

"Daryl, you aren't in the right condition to start a fight," Rick cautioned. The leader came close, looking him dead in the eyes. "I know you wanna teach her a lesson - _I do too_ \- but it'll have to _wait_.." Daryl pushed away from the leader, shoving him hard enough to cause him to stumble back a few steps. The archer stormed away, passing Jasmine and heading straight for the door. Shooting him a glance, she didn't hesitate. Jasmine turned on her heels and followed along behind the archer. The doors flew open and the sparkling snow danced into the air. The sun was shining down from the milky cerulean stretch above them, the alabaster powder swirling as it was stirred by the wind.

Daryl was pacing like a wild animal in a cage, the thin flawless layer of snow upon the veranda now damaged as he trampled it. "Daryl," she began. "Just relax. You shouldn't allow yourself to get so worked up.." He shook his head, proceeding on his path across the wooden porch. Everything about the moment was causing them all great distress, which worried her. Daryl was healing and had enough on his shoulders already. Now they had more mouths to feed and the threat had returned. They were definitely not in the clear. "Daryl, will you just _calm down_ already? You're only making the situation more stressful for the rest of us.." Jasmine admonished, her brows knitting together.

Shaking his head, he made a break for the end of the veranda. His destination: his bike, covered in a layer of heavy snow. Jasmine wasn't sure whether or not he intended on escaping the scene, but she knew that he wasn't in the condition to ride, let alone leave the safety of the lodge. The young woman reached for him, her hand connecting with his wrist. Daryl attempted to yank away, albeit using a small portion of his strength due to his injury. "Let me go," he demanded. Jasmine's grip tightened, but unfortunately she was suddenly thrown off, stumbling through the snow. Her temper suddenly getting the better of her, she ran up behind him and gave him a shove. " _Why do you always leave when we need you most_?!"

Daryl suddenly whipped around, coming so close that the tip of his nose feathered across her own. " **I ain't gonna lose you again**!" Daryl snarled. With a yelp, the terrified femme scrambled back. Her hands flew up instinctively to keep him away from her, her palms landing upon his chest as he proceeded to pursue her. Daryl began to back her up a few paces. The two came to a stop as Daryl froze to the veranda, realizing his mistake. "Y'think I'm just gonna sit back and _watch_?"

Usually, Jasmine would just push right back; get in his face.. but not this time. The archer had actually intimidated her, and thus she cowered at his hand. She was panting as her lungs attempted to keep up with the cardiac organ that lay in her breast. It fluttered, dancing as the adrenaline of her own fear pulsed through her. From beneath her fingers, from beneath the material of his shirt; Jasmine could feel his heart drumming in his chest just like her own. Waves of emotion practically vibrated off of him; anger, fear, desperation. The air was electrical. Her eyes searched his face, and for a moment, she felt her cheeks turn scarlet. He was _really_ close.

Daryl suddenly startled her again, brushing her hands off his chest and stepping away. There was a moment of silence as he avoided her eyes, glaring off to his right. Jasmine opened her mouth to say something. Before she could even speak, Daryl beat her to it. "I didn't know where t' _look_... I didn't know where t' _go_.." His voice was low, wavering. " _I should've_ -"

"It wasn't your fucking _fault_ , Daryl!" Jasmine insisted. Her throat locked up. Why was she getting so emotional? She thought back to the evening she had found him, collapsed on the floor, bleeding out.. He turned his head up at and looked over at her, the look in his slate-blue eyes frustrating her. She couldn't quite place what they conveyed, but it pissed her off nonetheless.

" _Yeah_? And y'think I'd've let 'em take you if I'd've gone with you guys?" asked the archer. Jasmine felt tears stinging her eyes. He was right; completely correct. If Daryl had been there, maybe they could have escaped and returned to the lodge. Then none of this would have happened. Jasmine reached up and hugged herself against the chill of the morning, turning her head so she didn't have to look at him. Daryl looked upon her for a moment longer, his shoulders rigid, before he turned away and disappeared from sight.

There wasn't much that she could do. She listened to the snow crunching as Daryl's feet left the porch and he rounded the side of the lodge. Jasmine felt so helpless. He took too much upon himself, and she didn't know how to take the burden off his shoulders. After a moment of standing out there in the cold, she returned back inside, the doors shutting. Rick was finished grilling Fallon, and Abraham was getting her to her feet. The girl was so small without her heels. Escorting her to the basement stairs, they disappeared into the dark.

Glenn approached her, Rick sitting down on the couch and placing his head in his hands. "Did Daryl leave?" he asked. Jasmine met his gaze and wrinkled her nose, averting her eyes and turning her attention to the floor not far away. Her arms crossed and she let out a sigh. Glenn, clearly frustrated, took a step back and placed his hands on his hips. "Seems to be that that's all he ever does," he grumbled. The stairs creaked. Emma and Jude had returned downstairs, clean and fresh - more or less. Suddenly rushed by the woman from the Grove, Jasmine was given a tight hug. To make matters worse, the woman continued to sob into her.

"He's gone... he's gone, we never found him. He just... _left_ ," Emma sniffled. Jasmine understood and wrapped her arms around the taller woman. She hushed her softly, and rubbed her back until she had calmed down. Wiping her reddened eyes, Emma drew away and took a deep breath.

"I'm sure there's still hope," Jasmine chided. "He's a strong man, and I know he must be trying to find you _right now_. Hopefully he will soon.." She had to admit, the sight of the grumpy man left a robust taste in her mouth. She was unsure of what to expect if he ever did return, but so long as he was safe and Emma was happy, that's all that would matter. Her mind continued to wander as Emma set to helping Maggie with breakfast, leaving her to waltz over to the staircase and sit on the bottom step.

Daryl probably wouldn't like the man, especially if he knew how cruel he had been to her the day they had been kidnapped. Jasmine shivered as she remembered the feeling of the sharp rocks digging into her cheek. Maybe he was right... maybe it was his fault that they had been taken. Jasmine swallowed hard. No.. it wasn't his fault. It was meant to happen - that was all. Her cruel thoughts were fueled by nothing but anger. Her eyes wandered to the door...

"I knew it. I knew that man wasn't Rick wh'n he said he w's.." Jordan was sitting behind her, playing with the back of Jasmine's shirt. Startled, Jasmine grasped at her chest. The femme turned her head to look at the child. Reese was dozing on the step just above where Jordan was settled, a bundle of feathers.

"I met Judith... she's a _real baby_ , y' didn' lie!" she remarked. A warm smile laced her lips. "Why is sh' call'd _Lil Ass-Kick'r_ though?" Jordan tilted her head, almost all the way down. Her freckles stood out upon her pale flesh, her grey eyes like a steel knife in the daylight. She was no longer muddy, and wore proper shoes. They had been meant for Judith when she got older, but for now, they would work for Jordan. She still wore her cute little fishy t-shirt and overalls, along with a sweater.

"Daryl named her that," Jasmine replied, quietly turned her attention down to her nails. She began to clean the dirt out from under them.

"Dar'l?"

" _Daryl_ ," she corrected. A soft chuckle escaped her. Jordan paused for a minute. "Th' man wit' the c'ossbow?" Jasmine hummed to indicate that she was correct, bobbing her head.

"Oh." Jordan asked a lot of questions, yes, but she retained information better than any adult ever could. She was always curious, and looking at things from a new angle. It was rare to find that in children. Jasmine suspected that was what kept her alive: her intelligence. "So... what part 'uv th' family is he?"

Jasmine nibbled at the inside of her cheek. "I'm not sure," she replied. "In all honesty, he's Rick's right-hand man." Her mind skipped like a record for a moment. "Although... lately, I'm not completely positive he even classifies as that.." Silence ensued as Jordan rose and then moved to sit beside her. The freckle-faced girl settled upon her bum with a grunt, and then mirrored her actions.

"Is he th' mean one?" Jordan inquired. Jasmine screwed up her face. "He _can_ be.. but not often. He's just going through a rough patch." Shrugging her shoulders, she glanced at the door.

"Y' said he was y'r best friend, right?" asked the girl. The young woman sighed and stretched her legs out, leaning back on her elbows. "Again, I'm not sure.."

"Well, y' _like_ him, don't ya?"

"Of course-"

"A lot?"

"Well, yes, bu-"

"Then he's y'r best friend," Jordan established. The femme's green eyes fell to the floor. The term stuck to her mind. Best friend? The term felt as if it didn't even begin to cover what Daryl meant to her.

"Well, not exactly. It's more than that. Sometimes we don't get along... some days we're really close. It just depends on the circumstances. All relationships have times like that - where you two, you know, wanna _strangle_ each other." Jasmine snickered and hung her head back, shutting her eyes. "Daryl is complicated. He has days where you can give him a hug, or goof around with him... then there are days where he won't let you touch him at all, and he stays silent."

There was a long moment of silence as Jordan was most likely processing. "Ya care 'bout him, righ'?" she asked finally. She was being careful with her words... why? Jasmine peered at her from slitted eyes. Finally, she shrugged and nodded. "A lot?" There was a pause...

"Oh.."

"Yes?" she prompted, frankly beginning to doze off. It was so early..

Jordan suddenly jumped to her feet and leaned in close. Jasmine gave her a puzzled look. "Oh, so he's y'r _boyfrie-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-end_!" The woman's eyes widened and she stared at the little girl for a moment, before she suddenly burst out into a guffaw. Jordan joined in. No matter how mature she acted, she was still a child at heart. "Daryl? Not in a million fuckin' years!"

"Swear.." Jordan scoffed. Confused once more, she pondered on what she meant. "Oh, sorry.." Jasmine finally replied, bringing her hand to her mouth.

"Momma said it's not nice t' swear." What a good girl.

"You'll do it one day, when you're older." Jordan shrugged and sat back on her rump once more, crossing her legs and peering up at her.

"If he isn' your boyfriend, _then who is_?" she asked. Jasmine scratched the back of her neck. What a question that was. For a moment, her thoughts trailed to Rick, but she shook her head. "No one."

"Yet?"

" _Yet_..."

Jordan beamed. "I'm gonna find y' a boyfriend!" Her voice carried out into the foyer, Maggie and Emma glancing over in their direction with little giggles. Embarrassed, Jasmine hushed the child, who was already in a fit of laughter. _Oh boy..._

* * *

[ **Author's Note:** ] **Rebuke (noun)** : _To express sharp disappointment or criticism of someone because of their behavior or actions._

 **What even just happened? Fallon is now in their basement, Daryl is up and about even after the incident (I guess Daddy's violent abuse came in handy?) and Jordan is on the hunt to find Jasmine a boyfriend. Not only that, but Daryl is super distressed now. He finally got her back, the threat has returned... And he still blames himself.**

 **Help me. This is too much!**


	17. Chapter 17 - Awakening

**Mid-January**

By late afternoon, the snow had stopped completely. The ground was covered in a layer of the sparkling powder, the air so cold that your saliva could freeze while you were in mid-sentence. Jasmine remained at the house with Maggie, Emma, Carol and Jordan, while Rick, Carl, Abraham, and Glenn had gone off to try and find the mall that Emma had told them about. Having been marked on the map that Carl had had, it would hopefully be easier to find. The walkie-talkie remained on the island table, in case there was trouble.

There was still no sign of the archer, which concerned them all. He was still healing, and it was dangerous to be out without a way of connected to the others. Jasmine had skipped lunch, feeling a bit uneasy at the sight of food. She was too stressed out. Quietly, the young woman read a novel, sitting on the floor and leaning against the isle in the kitchen. Jordan was asleep on the couch, Reese remaining on the end of the third stair at the bottom of the staircase. She couldn't focus suddenly, and shut her novel. With a sigh, she glared up at the ceiling, allowing her head to fall back against the cool face of the table behind her. Carol was quietly folding laundry, Emma back upstairs. Both of the new members of the group were resting in their new bedrooms. For now, they would share a room.. but would most likely end up in one of cleaned out rooms in the back hall. Finally, they were being out to use.

Jasmine, curious, rose to her feet and set her reading material down on the counter. With a gentle breath, she crossed the foyer and headed for the basement steps. Carol didn't seem to notice, which made her feel confident in herself. She was getting better with the whole factor of stealth. Daryl had taught her well, yet she still had a lot to learn as she shut the door behind her with an unfortunate click. Freezing, Jasmine clenched her teeth, waiting for Carol to call her name... but all her ears detected was the gentle patter of her heart.

The young femme slowly began to creep down the dusty stairs. Just as she made it halfway, she was stopped dead in her tracks by the sound of soft, echoing vocals. Fallon was singing softly to herself, down in the boiler room. She could hear it... the sound was eerie and strange as it bounced off the walls and danced within her eardrums. Jasmine shivered and her grip tightened upon the railing.

" _Jasmine_..." she chimed, the sound of her name causing Jasmine to panic. How did she know it was her? The young woman was about to proceed when suddenly there was a loud pounding at the door. There was the sound of pattering feet, and Carol warbling cheerfully as she called out, attempting to show the person at the door that she was coming to answer. The door was suddenly drummed upon once again, the sound thundering through the lodge. Jasmine turned and looked up the stairwell, a sliver of light peeping through the crack in the door.

There was another round of rapping upon the heavy egress, and then the sound of the door flying open and screaming on it's hinges. Suddenly, Emma's shrill shriek hit the air, setting her heart racing. Jasmine bolted up the companionway, and threw the door open. Rounding the corner, she was met with the sight of Emma running up behind Carol, who was rushing to help the man in the door. Daryl was practically hanging there, clinging to the door frame so he could keep himself on his feet; his face was a mask of complete and utter agony, his injured shoulder slack. He was pulled inside and brought to the kitchen.

"What happened?!" Emma exclaimed. The archer was leaned forward against the island, his knuckles turning white from how tightly he gripped the edge of the counter top. Jasmine jogged up to the archer. The others attempted to keep him still as he grabbed for the radio that lay across the table. He finally managed and grasped the walkie, hitting the button with vigor.

"Rick!" Daryl barked. Fuzz. " _Rick_!" Blood was dripping down his fingers and onto the floor. Carol was already rushing to pull his jacket off, Daryl stiffly allowing her to do so. Jasmine assisted as well, although she was still unsure. Suddenly the archer turned his head to Jordan, who sat terrified, peering over the back of the chesterfield.

" _Shut the damn door_!" he ordered. Jordan, startled, nodded and raced for the door. It closed hard with a slam.

"Rick!" he thundered.

There was a click. " _Yeah_?"

"There's a fuckin' dog. Foamin' at th' mouth n shit. Get everyone in!"

Fuzz. " _What? Slow down_.."

"Found it when I was out, shot at it. Fucker followed me back to the lodge," Daryl explained. His sides were heaving as he attempted to catch his breath. His body trembled from the strain of attempting to stay upright.

Fuzz, fuzz... " _Oh, Jesus fuck_." Blood had soaked through his shirt. The wound must have reopened. Her stomach churned. Daryl's head dropped, relieved. Rick had heard him, and he knew. " _Hold tight, keep the doors and windows locked n' shut. We'll be back soon._ " The archer allowed the radio to fall from his hand and swooned into Jasmine. The small girl grappled with the task at hand, helping the two older woman get Daryl up the stairs. Finally, they achieved their goal, and got him to the restroom. The door flew open and Emma fell behind, leaving Carol and Jasmine to do the dirty work. Peletier dug under the sink, finding a small towel and tossing it to Jasmine. Shutting her mind off, she helped Carol get Daryl out of his shirt and observed the wound. Blood trailed down his back, smearing all over his skin.

"Get that on there," Carol ordered. Doing as she was told, she earned a hiss from Daryl. The wound had pulled open, and was now glistening with fresh crimson. " _Pressure_ \- you need _lots_ of pressure. We need to stitch it back up, but for now we need to stop the bleeding..." Jasmine nodded, and focused on the bloodied towel in her hands as it pressed to the lash mark.

"Emma, run downstairs and go into the dry-storage compartment. There'll be a bunch of medical supplies in a first-aid kit. Bring all of it." She was so level-headed... why? It was as if it didn't bother her.

Her hand shifted, earning another complaint from the archer. "Careful!" Jasmine cautioned. Daryl's nails dug into the tile on the wall.

" _I'm doin' the best I can_!" he spat, clearly not in the mood to be ordered around.

"Don't be a _fucking dick_ ," Jasmine growled. She wasn't in the mood.

"Both of you, cut it out," Carol ordered. The younger woman gritted her teeth. Proceeding to lay her free hand on his spine, she felt his muscles physically shift and tense. Emma finally returned with the supplies and Jasmine prepared herself for the part she didn't want to be a part of. Her stomach began to churn. "Did you get bit?"

"By what?" Daryl asked, being rather bold and cocky for one who was bleeding.

"The _dog_..." Carol clearly wasn't taking any of his bullshit. She actually looked as if she were ready to give him a cuff.

"No." He protested as suddenly the needle pierced his skin. This time he was more accepting with the pain, and his muscles relaxed in order to let it flow smoothly. If they were to become taut, the blood flow would become even worse, and he may have ended up passing out. Jasmine removed the towel bit by bit as the wound was sealed. It took about fifteen minutes before they were rinsing the blood off their hands and cleaning him up. Jasmine took to finding him a clean shirt. Unfortunately, she couldn't find one that didn't smell, and decided to snatch one of Rick's. Just as Jasmine was returning to the washroom, there was a sudden sputter of surprise from Daryl as Carol rung a soaked sponge over his head. The water washed away a layer of dirt and grime.

She couldn't help but let out a snicker as he stood there, hands raised to hover just over his head. He dripped over the floor, his hair hanging down over his face. Carol grinned from ear-to-ear. The cheeky devil. Gasping from the chilly water, he wiped the liquid from his face. "Can you walk?" she asked.

"What the fuck!" he exclaimed. Carol pitched a towel over his head.

"Take a bath. You need one something awful." Daryl straightened and flipped her the bird. The older woman rolled her eyes and shook her head. She then made for the door. Tossing the towel to the ground, Carol linked arms with Jasmine, and the two escaped the bathroom as quickly as they could. Shutting the door, they held it closed, snickering hysterically as he protested from the other side. The knob jiggled and the egress began to open, but as soon as a sliver of light from the inside hit the hall, Jasmine scurried behind Carol and grabbed her by the waist. The two pulled back, barely able to keep the door shut as he yanked. Suddenly, with one mighty jerk, the door flew open and the two women were sent to the floor in a fit of giggles. Daryl, on the other hand, was having none of it. Taking the sponge from the cold tile, he rang it out over the women, who squealed.

"How d'ya like _that_?" he taunted, acting in a rather juvenile manner. The fight continued, parts of the floor slippery now as the moist sponge was tossed back and forth. The trio had completely forgotten about the issue at hand, and were now having a gay time goofing around. By the end, Jordan's attention had been drawn to the three adults as they had a sort of a child-like time. She began bouncing cheerfully and clapping, which brought them to a halt. Daryl stumbled and slipped suddenly, falling back against the lip of the tub. There was a moment of silence, and then they laughed again. Daryl grinned and shook his head, wiping his face.

Jasmine knew that none of them were afraid to die... not one bit. Not anymore. It was a part of life, and if they were to go, they'd go together: as a family.

* * *

"It's my birthday tomorrow!" Jordan whispered. Her silver eyes were positively glowing, her cheeks a healthy pink. Reese clucked softly from where he was resting on the back of the couch. "Your _birthday_?" Carol echoed, signalling that she had arrived from her duties upstairs. She was peering over at the child. Since Jordan had come around, the older woman had been absolutely crazy about her. "How do you know?"

"Momma told me that every time it snows like this for the first time, it's my birthday." The little girl gently picked up the avian and placed him in his lap. Jasmine felt a little bit bad for the girl. She wouldn't be able to have a proper birthday.. If fact, she would most likely never have one for a long time.

The door suddenly swung open. Rick and the crew all piled in, the door shutting and then locking behind them. Snow gusted in, the wind having picked up outside. Just as Rick's team had began to take off their boots, the heavens opened up, dumping gallons of frozen rain down from the heavy grey clouds. Glenn shot Maggie a look of relief, who smiled. "The dog.." began Emma. Her eyes were full of worry. Abraham was just pulling off his rifle.

"Couldn't find the damn thing," he remarked, shrugging. "It's gone now."

"Might have died, if it's Daryl we're talking about," Rick casually strode forward and caressed her lower back, giving Jasmine a kiss upon the cheek. The entire group gawked. "Where is he?" Her face burned - what was she supposed to say? The leader brushed by her as Sasha joined the group at the door, holding a rather content Judith in his arms. Taking the toddler, he bounced her.

"He was upstairs last time I checked," Jasmine peeped shyly. Her skin still tingled from the kiss he had given her.

"Time to start dinner!" Carol said, changing the subject. Everyone let out hums and small comments of agreement, splitting off into teams. It was Sunday night - she had forgotten. Experiment Night! Jasmine joined Michonne in chopping the chestnuts that they had found. Maggie, Carl and Carol began to open the cans of yams and cranberry sauce; Rick, Glenn and Abraham heading outside in the unrelenting sleet to grab stalk for the fire. That left Emma, Jude and Jordan to visit by the fire - they had yet to adjust to the customs and find their place, and besides, too many were a crowd.

"What was _that_ about?" Sasha asked Jasmine as she passed her. Michonne gave her a bit of a shove and Maggie let out a scoff.

"Don't question her! She'll get embarrassed.." Carol scolded. Jasmine chuckled softly. The girls were always sticking their nose in.

"It's really nothing..." Shrugging, Jasmine continued to focus on chopping. Carol piped up again, defending the poor woman. "That's right, you girls leave her alone.."

Michonne paused and looked over at the tangled mess of silver hair. "Well, no, come on Carol. We _have_ to know!" The raven beauty turned to Jasmine, who proceeded to chop. "Rick's picked a new favorite..." Her gut twisted. No, she wasn't his favorite at all. She felt a bit uncomfortable now that the group had seen. She didn't want to disappoint them, but at the same time...

Sasha scooted around the counter and began to help the girls crack and chop the nuts. She peered over at Jasmine, whose eyes widened in irritation. " _Sto-o-o-o-o-op_!" she griped. The entire kitchen burst into laughter.

"Am I gonna have to start calling you _Mom_ soon?" Carl added in. Turning around, she gave him a playful whack on the shoulder. " _I'm not old enough for that_!" Jasmine hissed. The group continued with their little bubbly giggles. They were teasing her something awful and it was causing her much malaise. Finally, the chatter died down and a silence hung over the scullery, apart from the harsh thwacks of the knives hitting the counter.

"I honestly thought that you and _Daryl_ were a thing," Sasha declared. Her face flushed scarlet and she dropped her knife, raising her head. She stared up at the ceiling in disbelief. "Well, we all kind of thought that," Michonne added.

"Seriously? You girls..." She picked up her knife and chopped another nut. "What on _earth_ gave you that idea?" The woman next to her stopped what she was doing and gave her a look.

"Are you kidding me?" Michonne inquired. The raven beauty proceeded with her assignment. "You two were inseparable for the longest time."

"So?"

"Attached at the hip as my Daddy would always say," Maggie added. Jasmine nibbled on the inside of her lip as she took her portion of the chopped nuts and placed them in the bowl they belonged in. Sasha hummed in agreement. " _Mmhmm_ , always doin' everything together."

Jasmine snorted and shrugged. A match was lit and the stove was soon alive with a cold blue flame. It reminded her of the color of the summer sky whenever the sun would some up.

"And if you weren't, he'd ask where you were.." Carol finished, gazing down at the contents that she stirred in the pot. Maggie set to washing her hands. The girls at the island table finished what they had been doing and set the bowl aside. Next, they had to cut meat.

"Well, I can tell you that he treats me more like a _sister_ than a lady," Jasmine said finally. The girls gave her skeptical looks.

"Well, he isn't much of a gentleman himself," Carl commented. "Of course he's gonna treat you like one of the guys. He doesn't know what to do with a woman." Michonne was clearly tickled, impressed by how tough the boy was talking. " _Ooohhh_ ~" The raven beauty smirked. "So you know how to treat a lady?"

"I guess being a lady's man runs in the family, _eh Jasmine_?" Sasha retorted, giving her a nudge. Jasmine continued to chop the meat, completely mortified by the topic. "Look out, Carl might snatch you out from under Rick's nose before _Daryl_ can!"

Okay, now it was becoming too difficult to avoid laughing. Jasmine brought the back of her hand to cover her mouth, trying to stifle the noise she was making. This egged the women on, their cackles growing louder in volume. Carl had to leave, he was so cracked up. The boy washed his hands and then crossed the foyer to join the others by the fire. With sighs, they all looked at one another.

"In all honesty though, Jasmine.. are you sure you two didn't go for a _romp in the woods_?" Sasha pried. Her smile was keen and enticing. "Cuz it certainly seems that way.." Jasmine thought about it - and just for a moment, she felt her heart flutter in excitement. Shaking her head, she put on her best cringe, as if she hadn't just imagined it. Daryl would never want something like that, at least not with her.

"No way, _nowhere close_ ," she replied.

Sasha looked away, clearly unconvinced. "Okay, if you say so.."

"Ladies, _leave her alone_ ," Carol interjected. She was smiling, which meant she was most likely enjoying the moment, but thank God for pack-mom! Jasmine let out an exasperated sigh, resuming the chopping. Taking the container over to the sink, she was joined by Sasha.

"You sure you didn't get a bit of that _wild_ in you?" she teased quietly. Enough was enough: Jasmine reached up and flicked water at her. They broke out in a splatter fight, joined by the rest of the group. They quickly took sides - it was all out war

" **Enemy spotted**!" Michonne cried, tossing one of the damp cloths over at Jasmine and Carl. Swiftly catching the rag, she found herself a bit of flour left over from the bowl and tossed it over the counter. There was a cry and they rejoiced in victory. Maggie and Sasha were violently hitting each other with their washcloths, Michonne throwing bits of foam from the dish water around; Carol and Jasmine were in a heated battle of playful, wishy-washy backtalk as they fenced with two gleaming kitchen forks. Suddenly, in all the commotion, Carl rolled out from behind his end of the island and got Carol in the behind with a flick of his rag. This earned a cry from the older woman, and millions of chortles as the group's heated battle came to a stop.

The stairs suddenly creaked as someone descended with heavy footfalls. Around the corner came Daryl Dixon, to everyone's surprise. His hair was no longer greasy and tangled: it even looked as if it had had a comb ran through it once or twice. His skin was well-washed, and his scruff was trimmed and orderly. His hair no longer reached his shoulders, cut short enough in the back so that it reached just over the cusp of the base of his skull. His bangs were still fairly lengthy, but not as long as they had been previously. So _that_ had been what Carol had been doing upstairs!

Sasha let out a caterwaul and the girls clapped. All at once, the door swung open, the screaming wind and the sleet tumbling in in a massive gust of sudden brisk air. Jasmine blinked in surprise as she looked upon the archer, who gave her a soft smile and a dip of his head. Her chest ached. It had been something she had missed. Now that they were finally all reunited, Jasmine couldn't help but want to burst into tears when she looked over to see his familiar gaze upon her.

Rick and the men stepped inside, brushing sleet off their shoulders and rubbing their hands together as they attempted to warm up. The scruffy leader grinned so brightly upon the sight of the archer that Jasmine could have sworn that they could touch his ears. "Hey, isn't that _my_ shirt?" he remarked, gesturing to the black t-shirt the archer was wearing. Abraham gave him a slap on the back. "Looks better on him anyway." The family laughed together, the sound warming the room.

"Give him a break, Rick," Glenn chuckled, brushing by the leader and finding his way up to Maggie. Sasha reached over and gave Abraham a kiss, whose pinched cheeks warmed slightly in color. It was sweet.

Rick ran a hand up through his hair and nodded. "Alright, alright..." Turning to Jasmine, he reached over to give her a gentle kiss of some sort- only to be rejected as she cleared her throat and quickly stepped down into the foyer to speak to Daryl.

"So, you decided to cut your hair?" she noted, attempting to remove herself from the awkward moment. Daryl shot Rick a look, and then returned his gaze back to the young woman. "Yeah.. well, more like Carol did." The older woman was down the hall in the storage room, grabbing something for the meal most likely.

"You needed it!" she called.

"No I didn't!" Daryl called back. With a shake of his head, his attention returned to Jasmine. Mother was always right!

"She's right, y'know," Jasmine teased, giving him a shove. She then stuffed a hand in her pocket and looked up at his hair. "It looks good. Better now that it's out of your eyes..." The archer casually glanced off and shrugged. His slate-blue depths returned to her face and he offered a crooked smile.

"I didn't see anythin' wrong with it.."

"It's because you _couldn't_ see." Daryl snorted at her comment and shook his head. With a mumble of "whatever", the two joined the kitchen crew. There was an awkward tension between Rick and Jasmine as they entered the level they stood at. She reached Carol's side soon though, and helped her fry the meat. The smell was a bit strong, and Jasmine felt a bit uneasy... but it was her job.

"You're clearly feeling.. shall I say, _awkward_?" the woman began. Jasmine swallowed gently and nodded. Wiping her brow, Carol sighed. "Why don't you just tell Rick that you aren't interested?"

As she quietly stirred the sauce for the food, her mind pondered upon the question. Did she feel as if she wanted him? She was unsure. Rick was kind and gentle, and definitely sweet to her. What was holding her back? Everyone expected them to be a thing now... If only Rick hadn't have done what he had: then no one would know. More importantly, how would _Daryl_ react? If he really acted as if she were special to him... if he found out that Rick and her were going further with their relationship - then what? Would he completely cut her off?

Did Daryl honestly feel that way about her? Jasmine paused and peered over at him. He was standing by the side of the staircase, arms crossed as he chatted with Abraham. Did he? Her attention returned to the sauce. "It's not that I'm not interested.." Jasmine murmured to Carol.

"Something is holding you back, perhaps...?" pried the older woman. Glancing over at Carol, she furrowed her brows in thought, her lashes fluttering. The woman pursed her lips in thought. Jasmine swallowed again, harder this time. The meat was beginning to smell something rather awful. Her stomach was starting to knot up. No, it wasn't like that... Jasmine's chest tightened and she gripped the end of the wooden spoon until her knuckles were turning white. Was it? Quietly, she added some pepper. She was so confused.

Even if Jasmine felt that way about Daryl, it wouldn't matter. He certainly didn't show any interest in her: at least not now. Then again, there was the occasion on the night they were drunk.. and the evening that Jude had joined them. Daryl was fairly protective.. and he almost looked jealous whenever he'd see that Rick were with her. Even though Daryl didn't show it often, he would display how he cared for her in small ways: finding her favorite tea, helping her conquer her fear of _water_ , teaching her how to carry out something with proper accuracy if she were doing in askew. There were so many examples, now that Jasmine really thought about it...

The young woman looked over at the archer once more, and just caught him looking away. Her heart jumped. All at once, suddenly Rick was in view, resting his hands on her waist and greeting her with a kiss on the top of the head. Silently, the leader reached up above her to grab what he needed from the shelf: half a bottle of whiskey. The group all praised him for his choice as he began to fill glasses. Tonight they would take it slow, though..

As Rick's large hands disappeared from her curves and he moved away, she felt her ears burn in shame as she felt Daryl's gaze chewing into her. Her stomach clenched suddenly. The smell of the meat made it worse, and suddenly, her gut lurched.

"Jasmine, hon? You're _pale_.." Carol fretted softly. _Oh no_.

Jasmine threw her hand up to cover her mouth and dropped the spoon, running for the powder room. She had just made it to the sink when she collapsed to her knees, tossed the toilet seat up and vomited into the porcelain bowl. Pain shot through her abdomen as she clutched the cold surface of the lavatory. Her body broke out into a cold sweat, and her limbs trembled. When she was finished, all she could hear was a high-pitched ringing. Jasmine's head spun and she saw spots as she drew away, wiping her maw with the back of her hand. Carol was just running into the bathroom, kneeling and reaching for her as she sat back and attempted to catch her breath. For a moment, she gazed at the open doorway, watching as Daryl stood there. He looked worried, and unsure of what to do with himself. Oh no...

She was caught between her suave leader and the rugged lone-wolf.

* * *

"Jasmine, honey..." Carol softly chided. She opened her eyes slowly, swallowing hard. Her mouth has dry and she felt uneasy. With a stretch, she rolled over and laid eyes upon the woman. Her tangle of silver hair was clean and washed - she had recently bathed. It _was_ morning, yes? Not too early: there was light tumbling in through her window. Daryl was leaning in the doorway, his crossbow in his left hand, peering at her with calm, curious eyes. Her heart skipped a beat and she turned back to Carol. She was handing her a glass of water.

"You need to drink something..." she suggested. Jasmine gratefully took the cup and slowly sipped on the water. It refreshed her, bringing her to life. Her ribs were sore. Jasmine remembered that she had gone up to bed after a quick breath of fresh air outside. The moment had been too much to handle, and she was embarrassed to have been ill so suddenly. Besides, rest was important in order for her to get out over this.. twenty-four-hour bug. Daryl suddenly piped up, his voice hushed and gravelly. " _You gonna be okay_?" Jasmine finished her glass and returned it to Carol. She nodded.

"Rick said that you should take the day off and rest, just in case you get sick again.." Carol proceeded to look upon her, green eyes wide with concern. She no longer felt cold, and her stomach was reasonably settled. "Are you sure?" Jasmine croaked. Her throat was still ragged from retching. "I feel fine.."

Daryl shook his head. "No," he insisted. "You're stayin' in bed." Carol rose to her feet and brushed her bangs from her brow. Leaning down, she gently kissed Jasmine on the forehead. The archer shifted. The older woman studied her for a moment. "No sign of a fever..." Carol finally concluded. She turned to Daryl and cocked a brow. He glanced from one woman to the other, and then shrugged. The femme gripped her sheets, waiting on edge for her answer.

"Just rest for a little bit until you're ready to get up... take your time." Jasmine was relieved to hear those words come from her mouth. She didn't want to be grounded to her room, as if she were terminally ill. "I'll tell Rick that he's just being nervous." Carol smiled softly and then picked up the glass. She disappeared out the door, leaving Daryl hovering in the frame. There was a moment of silence, before he cleared his throat and glanced at the carpet at his feet.

She wanted to say something... she desperately wanted to tell him that there was nothing between Rick and her, but Jasmine knew that she wouldn't be telling the complete truth. That, and it would be out of the blue... he clearly didn't know how she felt. She studied him as he stood in the doorway, as still as stone. Daryl, I love you...

* * *

Jasmine woke up to her room enveloped in darkness. The curtains were drawn, and her door was shut, as if someone had come inside to remove any source of light. The urge to urinate was strong, and thus Jasmine peeled back her covers and shuffled from her bedroom to the bathroom. The milky afternoon light cast an eerie glow on everything. Her senses were dull, yet heightened. She felt strange... Her back was sore, and she felt a bit out of breath from the effort of moving. Padding onto the room, she shut the door behind her with a soft _kuh-chnk_.

After she had relieved herself, Jasmine sleepily finished the task and stood to wash her hands. It looked as if Daryl and Rick had gotten the water back up and running again, after such a long time. Jasmine washed her hands and allowed her gaze to wander around the room. Sitting on the back of the toilet was an item that caused her thought process to grind to a halt. Her hands stilled. A cold drop of fear ran down her spine. Jasmine quickly shut off the tap and dried her hands, and then timidly reached for the book. She flipped through it and calculated the days. Her heart was racing... Suddenly she paled and she dropped the book, falling back against the sink with a painful blow to her back as she lost feeling in her legs.

Jasmine's period was late.

* * *

[ **Author's Note:** ] **The title of this chapter signifies Jasmine's awakening feelings, giving the story even more conflicting feelings. Not only that, but... What is she going to do now? With her period late and her sickness, could she really be pregnant?**

 **Keep reading to find out more! Thank you for reading~**


	18. Chapter 18 - Losing Gravity

**Late January**

The soft muffled sound of footsteps coaxed Jasmine to peek out from beneath her covers. It was fairly early, the pale blue light drifting in through her thin curtains. Her chest tightened as her brain begged her for sleep, but she knew that Daryl would soon be at her door, pulling her duvet off her and shaking her awake. Jasmine felt the urge to let out a groan of irritation, but unfortunately there wasn't enough energy within her to create said sound. As she waited patiently, her gaze focused on the wall across the room, then slipped down onto the carpet. Daryl's footsteps stopped, and Jasmine's brows furrowed in distaste. No matter how hard she tried though, she could not keep her peepers open. Her drowsy lids slowly slipped over her foggy eyes as she was pulled down into her dreams once again.

Jasmine practically had to pry herself out of bed every morning. It was excruciatingly painful to try and get up, but somehow she managed to do it. Daryl hadn't been too impressed with her sluggishness, and thus was most likely becoming suspicious. A few times she had caught herself zoning out, in a complete fog of hormones and anxiety. This had nearly gotten her killed, as she would freeze up when approached by a walker. Unsure of what to do with herself in the moment, Jasmine fortunately was saved by the archer, who gave her a shake of his head and a look of disappointment. Embarrassment had caused her gut to twist, and her head drooped, but she nonetheless continued on. She needed to focus, lest she'd get herself in a sticky situation. After all, Jasmine was fighting for two now...

* * *

It felt as if seconds were all that had passed. Jasmine was rudely ripped from the deliciously warm dark, startled awake by what she thought of to be her own child, screaming for her. Well, she was awake now. The femme attempted to calm the hammering of her heart, looking around the room. The light was oozing in through her window, gold and delightful, filling every corner of her room. Unfortunately Jasmine couldn't exactly enjoy it: she was too busy blinking the fuzz from her eyes and allow them to adjust to the sudden harsh light.

Delicate fingers drifting to her clavicle, she caught her breath, and once calm... she deflated and let out a loud groan of discomfort. It was only Judith. Why wasn't Rick up yet? Her cries continued, which soon urged her out of the warm protection of her bed. The pull was something great, to a point where she ignored the fact that she wasn't wearing pants. Her shirt was long enough. Jasmine shortly arrived at Rick's door, and found that it was open, the leader's bed tidy as he was absent. Frowning, she took to the crib, where Judith stood gripping the bar and fussing. With gentle croons, Jasmine picked up the toddler and carried her without much effort, down the hall to the bathroom.

Jasmine entertained the young child as she brushed her teeth and washed her face, and soon little Judith was bobbing around in a baby-like wiggle. They took a bath together, using the hot water from the pipes rather than their drinking water. The soft smell of vanilla from the bubbles filled the room. It was absolutely heavenly. After washing up, the young woman and the toddler dried off. All fun aside, Jasmine wondered where her father was. Why would he just leave her alone? Suddenly the door was pushed open and Carl shuffled in, dreamy-eyed. Upon seeing Judith and Jasmine, he blinked. "Where's my dad?" he asked.

With a shrug, she picked up the babe. Once she had turned, she recognized the blush on the boy's cheeks. She was half naked, wrapped in only a towel... great. "Get over it," she said, giving him a nudge as she passed. Judith warbled and giggled as the femme carried her to her bedroom. Setting her down on the bed, Jasmine took to getting dressed for the day. When her boots were finally laced, she brought Judith to Rick's room and found her her own outfit, and finally then took the girl out into the hall. They headed downstairs, soon followed by Carl. The two made breakfast and ate, Jasmine albeit eating slowly. She wasn't too sure about how food would treat her.

She understood that Daryl definitely hadn't forgotten to wake her up. He had most likely thought it would be best to let her have another day of rest before she went back out. After all, she would just slow him down. While those thoughts rolled around in her mind, Jasmine carefully fed Judith, who made a mess rather than ate. Carl helped clean her up afterward, and then the two washed their plates. Jasmine set her's aside in order to save some for Fallon, whom she remembered was downstairs.

"So, you and my dad... you're..?" Carl was hesitant as he brought the subject up.

Jasmine answered with her own question. "Why would it matter?" The entire idea of anything close to sex caused her great disgust. Carl looked at her with an expression of embarrassment, and his eyes turned down toward the plate her was drying. Feeling bad, Jasmine sighed. "Just wondering. Cuz all the women he loves _die_.."

A pang of guilt washed over her and she swallowed gently, peering over at the boy. Now she felt bad for being so salty. Jasmine reached over and gave him a pat on the back. "Well, whether your father and I _do_ become a couple, I'm not going to die.." she chided. She was acting as confident as she could; Jasmine was unsure whether she had said such things out of honesty, or if it had been because she felt as if she owed it to him. Carl shrugged her off suddenly, and she frowned. Perhaps the damage had been done.

There was a tense moment of silence, before the boy suddenly threw himself at her and embraced her. Startled, she stumbled back a bit, but then wrapped her arms around Carl, holding him tight. It was a touching moment, and for a few heartbeats she thought she would tear up.. but she remained strong. "You better not.." Carl scoffed. The two chuckled softly, and Carl returned to his baby sister.

Everything suddenly weighed upon her. What had she done? Had she just instilled false hope into the poor boy? He had never exactly had a mother figure through puberty, which concerned her deeply - perhaps Michonne would help keep him in check, so he didn't turn into a caveman. Cringing at the thought, she brushed those thoughts away. What she really needed to do right now, that was worth worrying about. Cautiously, Jasmine picked up the plate of food and began to head for the basement stairs. "Are you sure you don't want me to take it down?" Carl offered.

Jasmine paused by the door. "No, I've got this... don't worry," she replied.

"Are you _sure_? Daryl might get angry..."

"He can shove it up his ass," Jasmine chortled as she opened the heavy wooden egress. A gust of cold air suddenly caught her off guard, chewing through her skin and freezing her bones. Shivering, she proceeded down the steps, subconsciously soothing herself as she kept her mind elsewhere. This wasn't so bad.. Her feet it the cold cement and she glanced around, a bit frightened now. She felt exposed... and suddenly wished that she hadn't insisted on doing it. In the musty darkness, Jasmine peered around, carrying the plate in a tight grip as her nerves began to get to her.

"Oh, I was _wondering_ when you'd come visit me..." Fallon's voice suddenly coiled out of the black. Her figure was shadowed, the shafts of golden sunshine coming from the door being the only source of light. Her entire body tensed and the hair on the back of her neck rose. Jasmine soon proceeded, gently placing the plate down upon the cold ground. "It smells lovely..." Fallon chirruped. Her ankles were bound to the post, her wrists taped together. "Would you mind?" Jasmine had almost forgotten how silky and smooth her voice was. Like honey: thick and sweet.

Kneeling, she grasped the cold metal of the spoon, offering her some of the lukewarm porridge. At first, she didn't seem to notice. It wasn't that dark, and so Jasmine knew she was just playing games. Coming closer, she allowed the spoon to hover just beneath her nose. Delicately, Fallon's cracked lips parted and she took a bite. Thoughtfully she chewed, and then she swallowed. She continued to feed her.

"Did you make this?" asked the masked woman. Jasmine remained silent and set the spoon down. Suddenly Fallon's hand shot out like a snake would to strike it's prey. Her heart thundered in her breast, and without much thought, her first reaction was to cast her hand over her lower abdomen, as if to protect her unborn child. Fallon only made it so far before she gently waved her fingers inches from her face. "Ah... there you are..." Utterly confused, she watched as her hand gently drifted down her torso only a hair's-length away, before they stilled over Jasmine's belly. Fallon's lips pursed.

"Oh..." she remarked. Jasmine tensed. Stretching as far as she could, Fallon attempted to close the distance between the two, but Jasmine quickly scrambled away. She ended up falling back onto her buttocks on the hard floor, pain shooting through her tailbone. There was a moment of silence. "You're rather jumpy..." Fallon noted. Jasmine watched as the witch settled with her back against the pillar she was bound to. "It's only natural that a mother would act that way if she felt her baby were in danger." With a tiny, but sharp intake of air, Jasmine felt a wave of terror wash over her as Fallon spoke to her. How could she possibly know?

"Is it that fellow with the crossbow? Daryl, correct?" Her lips curled up faintly. "Oh come on, I'm _dying_ to know..." Her heart continued to flutter. "I'm surprised that you would make love to that _nasty beast_ , but then again... expect the unexpected."

Jasmine caught her breath and turned to make her escape. "Oh dear..." Fallon cooed. "You aren't _ready_ , are you?" The flames of anger flickered in her belly, but she forced herself to extinguish them. Her head dropped and she began to ascend the stairs. Suddenly, the witch spoke again. "One more question..." Jasmine came to a halt, defeated. Turning, her eyes settled upon the prisoner. "What are you hoping it to be?" The question was something... rather odd. She had never put her mind to it - at least not often. It had only been a few weeks..

"A girl," Jasmine finally replied.

"And... and as for a _name_?" For a moment, she could have sworn that she heard a touch of sadness in her voice. It was out of character for Fallon, which caused her heart to twinge. Swallowing, Jasmine let out a gently breath.

" _Elizabeth_... Beth for short."

* * *

Jasmine was in the back, counting supplies and writing on the clipboard when suddenly the doors unlatched and opened with heavy creak. The sound of muffled voices was music to her ears as she felt the sudden urge to run out and greet them all. It wasn't just that though: she just wanted to see Daryl's face. It would give her more confidence, especially after the odd turn of events in the boiler room. Dropping what she had been doing, she quickly padded out into the open, and revealed herself to the group. The familiar faces were a breath of fresh air as she was greeted by Carol, Glenn, Maggie, Rick and then Michonne. Abraham ducked inside not long after and was removing his coat, Jude and Emma following in suit. Reese joined the party, scuttling in last minute. The doors shut behind him. Daryl was not present.

"Hey guys, where'd you go?" she asked. "I was starting to think you had all joined the dead..." Her joke wasn't exactly the best kind at the moment, given the fact that there was an apocalypse currently going on, but she had taken the chance and seized it. Jasmine was amused - she was so clever when it came to poorly-timed jokes!

"Went out lookin' that dog," Abraham answered. "Ran into a few bandits, but we dealt with them." The idea caused her a bit of panic - what had they looked like? Had they been from Hatchback Grove? Clearly sensing her distress, Carol gave her a gentle hug. "No worries, it's fine now. No one got hurt," she chided. Carol always knew when she needed her. "Anyway, we found the poor thing. It's been put down; Daryl made sure of that."

"Sasha, why don't you take lookout?" Rick suggested, although it came out as more of an order. The woman nodded in agreement and carried her rifle in hand as she crossed the foyer, heading for the stairs. She passed by a rather sleepy little Jordan. The girl shuffled over, rubbing her eyes, and was greeted by none other than big ol' Abraham. He gave her flaming crown a ruffle and knelt down to talk to her as she told him about her dream. It was sweet, seeing how the two had become close.

Her leader suddenly came up behind her and gently coiled his index finger around her pinky. The gesture was touching, and she felt her cheeks redden. "How'd you sleep?" inquired Rick. He squeezed her finger. "I guess I slept alright..." she remarked, shrugging. She didn't want to move her hand away, but right now she really didn't want to be touched. Nonetheless, she was beginning to warm up to him as time passed.

"Why didn't Daryl get me up this morning?" Her eyes turned up to Rick, who for a moment looked hurt by the fact that she was talking about the archer, as usual. "I, _uh_ , I'm not sure. Probably thought you could use the rest..." Rick murmured. Jasmine frowned. Of course he did. Finally deciding that things were beginning to feel a bit too awkward, Jasmine released his finger and moved away.

Rick followed. "Is that it?"

His question stung. "Is _what_ it?" she asked, trying to play innocent.

"Well, frankly I feel as if we don't spend enough time together as we should.."

Jasmine stepped up onto the edge of the kitchen platform. "We've just been _busy_.." she replied. The young woman continued her journey into the scullery.

"You've been actin' weird... is something wrong?" he asked. Jasmine ignored him and was nearing the island. Rick caught up to her and rounded her, blocking her way. He was fairly close, which made her feel uncomfortable. Everything about this was making uncomfortable.

"Is it _Daryl_?" Her heart fluttered.

"Pardon me?" she inquired. What was he implying?

"Has he done something to upset you? I can talk to him if need be, just say the word..." Rick offered. "If something is ever bothering you, you can tell me.. I'll fix it." Touched by his chivalrous offer, she smiled softly. Rick returned her grin and reached down, lacing his fingers with her's. He brought her hand up to his mouth and gently grazed his lips across it. Her tummy fluttered. This was all happening so fast... but perhaps it wasn't bad? Rick drew her into a gentle hug. She hadn't been treated this way in a while...

 _Where is Daryl?_ Suddenly she was ripped from her fanciful mood and pulled away. She needed to go find him. Right. "I'm going out," she said. Reaching up on her tiptoes, Jasmine gave him an awkward kiss on the cheek and then quickly escaped. She was suddenly really nervous, and she didn't like it. It didn't feel right. No, she didn't want this. She wasn't sure of _what_ she wanted.

* * *

Within a few hours, the heavenly gold that teamed from the sky was replaced with sheets of frozen rain, the sound of the sleet hammering on the windows and roof enough to drive Jasmine nuts. Having decided to go off on a walk, she was glad that she had returned earlier than she intended. After having followed multiple roots, Jasmine had come up empty-handed- and by empty-handed, that meant without Daryl Dixon. He would be back any time now, she was sure of it.

Time ticked by, and it felt like millennia before she heard the door open and then shut. Jasmine practically sprang to her feet, startling Carol, who watched her quickly exit the room. Words weren't enough to describe how she felt when she saw him. He was removing his crossbow from his uninjured shoulder, speaking to Rick, all so casually. The archer turned his head, slate-blue eyes studying her for a moment. "Hey Jaz," he greeted.

Without taking a moment to allow him to prepare himself, nor a moment to think, Jasmine threw herself into his arms. The impact caused the archer to fall back a step, surprised by her sudden warm welcome. "Hey Daryl!" she replied, holding him close. The group let out little chuckles of amusement. Jasmine finally pulled away, earning a look of question from the archer. She then gave him a hard punch in the shoulder. " _That's_ for leaving me here," she explained, giving him a glare. The archer smirked and shook his head.

"I can see that you're doin' better," Dixon concluded. Perhaps he was correct? She did feel a bit more spry now that she had more rest. Her body had definitely needed it. The archer gestured for her to follow, taking her up into the kitchen and then into the back. He handed her one of the bags he carried, to which she gawked at how heavy it was. "What on earth?" she grunted. They reached the storage room, Carol greeting them with a smile. Giving Jasmine a look, she felt her ears burn as the woman's eyes practically screamed _"oh, that's why you bolted"_.

Daryl took to the shelves, pulling out jars of jam and peanut butter, as well as various other goods. It was astonishing, what he had found - and there was so much of it! Swinging the strap of the bag over her shoulder, she slipped her hand into it and began to sort out the items into their assigned categories. Carol looked between the two, and beamed. "Where did you get all this?" she asked, astonished.

"There's a mall, not far south. A lil' town - barely touched. Probably was a ghost town before shit hit th' fan," Dixon replied, reading the back of a can of beans. Jasmine pulled out some anchovies, and felt unwell suddenly. Holding it down, she cleared her throat ever so softly, and proceeded to preform the task at hand. Daryl handed Carol a canister of applesauce. The woman looked at it for a moment, and then turned to the archer, her jaw dropped. "You are a _saint_ Daryl, do you know that?" Carol gushed. The archer carried on with what he was doing: reading cans and shuffling over to where they belonged. Humming, he shrugged. "Nah.. just happen'd to run across it."

Brushing off the compliment earned him a jab in the back as Jasmine passed him on her way to the east-side of the room. The archer leered at her and gave her a once over; she leered right back, and for a moment a new feeling of strange tension arose. Soon however, Daryl looked away, although his simper was still plastered to his maw. Softly humming a gentle tune, Jasmine turned her attention to the empty shelf right above her head. She frowned. Of course. With an uneasy stride, Jasmine stepped up onto the bottom shelf and hoisted herself up so she could reach, when suddenly the shelf began to tip. With a squeak, she released before it could give way, sending her flying back in a flurry of cracker packages. Before she collided with the ground, two strong hands caught her by the arms. Jasmine opened her eyes and tilted her head up to see Daryl hovering over her.

" _I've gotcha_ ," he chided, hoisting her up to her feet. She had been inches from the ground. Her heart hammered in her chest, adrenaline pumping through her. How could she have been so stupid? Jasmine's face flushed in embarrassment as she knelt and scrambled to pick up the packages. "You alright?" he asked, lingering behind her. Nodding, she remained turned to the shelf. "I'm okay," she replied, and then cleared her throat. She proceeded to stack things, scuttling around from shelf to shelf. She could feel both Carol and Daryl watching her for a moment, but ignored it. Jasmine needed to start thinking more, rather than just barreling head-first. That's how people got themselves killed.

Carol finished up before they did, and gave a clap of her hands. "Well! I'd better start thinking about lunch for everyone - I think we deserve it." Lunch was something that rarely happened. The group stuck with breakfast and dinner, which were considered necessities. As for the afternoon meal, it was catch-as-catch-can. "Do you two need anymore help?" Daryl responded with a grunt and shook his head.

"We've got this," Jasmine chirruped. Besides, she was almost finished, judging by how her bag was now significantly lighter. With a nod, the silver tangle of hair disappeared down the hall, leaving the two in a heavy silence. Although she was a bit uncomfortable, she dealt with it. Sometimes things became awkward between the two when they had nothing to talk about. Crossing the room, she attempted to think of something that she could possibly use to make conversation. Jasmine found herself coming to a stop beside the archer, who quietly read the clipboard. He was most likely looking for the section in which the trailmix went. Jasmine pointed it out, and he mumbled a thank-you.

"I fed Fallon today," Jasmine, to her surprise, blurted. Big mistake. The archer came to a stand-still. Oh, big mistake. There was a moment of silence. Her shame began to overwhelm her. "Did y' now?" he inquired, finally. Okay, he didn't sound too upset. In fact, he didn't even sound mildly irritated. Nodding softly, she finished putting away the remaining supplies from her bag, and set it down. Daryl proceeded to hand her the clipboard, and then turned away.

"It looks like we've got everything," she concluded, nodding. Signing off on the board, Jasmine hooked it back up on the wall, returning to the archer's side and helping him finish his own collection. His shoulder remained still and stiff, the other hand working overtime as he reached and stacked. Without much thought, Jasmine took the bag from him, relieving him of the pain he was in. He was grateful for it, his rigid shoulders visibly loosening up. It was okay, this kind of silence. They didn't always have to make conversation.

The two finished their chores and thus Jasmine decided it would be best if she helped out Carol. "I guess I'll see you in a bit." The young woman exited into the hall and made for the kitchen, but was stopped as Daryl got her attention. Jasmine peered over her shoulder at the archer, who was rummaging through his pockets as if he had forgotten something. Suddenly, he was emptying his pockets, and a look of alarm took on his features. " _Shit_..." he cussed, quickly striding for the foyer. " ** _Shit_**." Jasmine followed after him, wary of the situation. Why was he in such a hurry? Daryl scooted out the exit, the doors flying open, a cold cloud of air wafting in. Jasmine shivered, but nonetheless she followed. Her toes touched the drenched wood of the veranda, causing her to cringe. Jasmine stepped back and stood in the door frame, hugging herself against the cold.

The wind was howling, the sleet and rain coming down in a wet mixture. The snow out in the front yard was damaged and imperfect, as if it had been shot with bullets rather than rained upon. "You can't just go out in _this_!" Jasmine protested. _Too late_ : Daryl had disappeared around the back. The femme felt dread rolling around in her gut. Where was he going in this weather? He would make himself sick.. A gentle hand on her shoulder startled her as Rick gently brought her back inside. "Why'd he run off?" the leader asked, clearly concerned. He most likely thought that they had had a disagreement again. Jasmine shrugged. "I think he might have forgotten something." The doors closed behind her and she made small talk with the leader, trying to distract herself as she heard Daryl's bike kick start to life and speed off.

"Why don't you two come help?" Carol called. The invitation was gladly accepted by the two, who were told to stir the noodles while Carol prepared the seasoning. It was odd - the older woman could make anything out of what little she was provided. "I can see that your day hasn't been that eventful.. perhaps we could go on a run together some time, just the two of us," Rick suggested. With a hum of agreement, Jasmine proceeded to stir. "Sounds like a fun idea.."

"Oh _shoot_ , I grabbed the wrong broth. Jasmine, honey, let's switch places - go grab the chicken stalk, will you?" The woman addressed nodded and traded duties with Carol. Jasmine quickly crossed the kitchen and then, hanging onto the edge of the wall, she swung herself into the hall. Above the chatter from the foyer, Jasmine could hear a faint singing voice coming from downstairs, which reminded her of Fallon. She remembered the vague melancholy in her tone when she had spoken to her about the baby. The world was weighing on her shoulders within seconds, reality setting in like a ton of bricks being dropped upon her.

 _Nobody would find out_... she had plenty of time to prepare herself for when she told Rick. Perhaps she could make it seem as if it were.. _his_? The idea made her feel rather apprehensive. It would be a bold move.. The thought of making love to Rick in order to simply remove the possibility of the others finding out about.. _Matthias_. She had almost completely forgotten about him. Memories washed over her like a tide of corrosive acid. Jasmine reached out, suddenly light-headed, and gripped onto the side of the shelves. Her throat locked up and she attempted to keep the tears in, but unfortunately a few managed to slip out. Hastily brushing them away, she reached up onto the top shelf and managed to grab the closest box of broth. Just as she thought she was strong enough to return back to her family, she felt claws of fear latch onto her once again. She covered her mouth and began to sob softly.

The muffled sound of the doors shutting startled her. Quickly, Jasmine reached down and used the sleeve of her flannel to dry her eyes, trying to catch her breath. There was the sound of Daryl talking to Rick, and then silence as he walked across the foyer in her direction. She was just coming out into the hall when she nearly collided with the archer. He was drenched, his hair plastered to his head, a sheen of water upon his leather vest. In his hand, he clasped his red rag. "You okay?" he asked. _Oh_ , her cheeks were ruddy and her eyes were still damp.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine... why'd you run out like that?" she asked. Daryl cast his hand up and stepped closer, coaxing her over. She was honestly unsure of what he was trying to pull right now. She fully expected him to suddenly scare her for his own amusement, as he would sometimes, but this time it was different. He opened his hand and carefully removed the folded cloth, as if what he held was fragile. It was most certainly delicate. Daryl lifted the item up by it's dainty silver chain, revealing a simple necklace with a few beautiful, small charms on it. The beads that dangled from the sparkling coupling were subtle yet striking: a freshwater pearl, a wire-wrapped blue topaz briolette, and a Peruvian opal, all hanging down in a row. Finally, at the very end of the short connection, a sterling silver angel wing danced and caught the light like something out of a dream. Jasmine was completely shocked. Jewelry was something she thought she would never see again, and thus there she stood, looking at the item dangling from his fingers, her jaws parted in awe.

" _Where on earth did you_ -"

"Saw it in a shop, thought you might like it.." Daryl disclosed. He handed it to her, the cool metal smooth and flawless in her palm.

"Oh my _gosh_.. Daryl, you really..." Jasmine trailed, and didn't finish her sentence. It all was too perfect, all too real. Here her world was teetering off it's center of gravity and spinning out of control, and suddenly here was Daryl, simply putting it on pause for a few moments. Daryl looked down at the keepsake in her palm. Not only was it beautiful, but it had sentimental purpose: the back of the vest he always wore was imprinted with two folded wings. "D'ya like it?" he asked, craning his neck in order to peer over at her.

"Of _course_ I do!" she breathed, taken aback that he thought otherwise. "Here, help me put it on.." Gracefully turning, she handed the delicate accessory to the archer, who gently cast the chain around her slender throat. The metal was chilly on her flesh, dangling down just above her bust and the lip of her shirt. Excited, she practically dragged Daryl into the powder room. The grey light washed over her, the necklace glinting gaily in it's glow.

Suddenly, Jasmine had an odd flash of déjà-vu, and blinked as she met his eyes in the reflection of the mirror. The look he was giving her reminded of the one from the evening Blake had taken her to meet Fallon. The dress had been overkill, and she knew that Daryl wouldn't particularly like it if she put one on... but the piece that he had given him herself - that, she knew, was something he didn't mind. The archer gave her a nod of approval, a faint smile on his lips. Jasmine beamed and turned on her heels. She reached up onto her tiptoes and threw her arms around his neck, giving him a hug.

Daryl hugged her tightly in return, tighter than he had held her in a long time- granted as best he could without hurting himself. His arms were strong, and familiar, and for a while she wished she could stay there forever. The archer rested his forehead in the crook of her neck and her slim shoulder. They remained stationary, simply exchanging their warmth and swaying ever so softly, before Jasmine loosened her grip. The two slowly began to slip apart, but before they could do so successfully, they came to a stop. Their faces were only inches apart, their bodies remaining flush against each other. There was a sort of electrical energy that crackled between them. Jasmine's cheeks burned as she noticed his intense gaze linger upon her rosy lips. A flame ignited in her belly, but was snuffed out last minute as someone was shuffling down the hall.

Daryl released her, and for a moment she could see his eyes flash in what appeared to be frustration. Unfortunately, she didn't have enough time to question him: Glenn came into view and the archer slithered around the corner and out the door, pushing right past him. The raven-haired gentleman was confused for a moment. Jasmine gave him a nod and picked up her package of broth powder - poor Carol. "Did you get lost back there?" the older woman asked upon her return.

Rick was holding Judith, who was once again, chewing at her fist. Ignoring her question, she eyed the foyer, noticing that Daryl had taken a seat next to Abraham. Rick soon stepped into view, her heart suddenly leaping into her throat. The young woman hastily turned on her heels and joined Carol by the stove, handing her the package. Jasmine felt as if she had stuck her head out a car window- her breath was gone, and her heart was hammering. Her mind was swimming as she replayed the moment over and over again in her head. Jasmine could have sworn that Daryl Dixon had wanted to kiss her.

And the spark of heat that had come to life in her belly in the moment.. She had never felt that with Rick- at least not often. Come to think of it, she always felt more comfortable around Daryl. Probably because she knew him better. Perhaps.. perhaps telling him about the baby wouldn't be so bad. Unfortunately, too timid to even proceed with the idea in her mind, she brushed it away. What would he think of her if he learned that she had let a man take advantage of her without putting up a fight? Rick came up behind her and reached over, suddenly brushing the chain around her neck. " _What's this_?" he inquired.

Jasmine blushed. "Just... just something Daryl gave me," she answered, her voice small and soft. Carol turned her head to look as her as she picked up the pan. It was time to dish it out. Rick's brows furrowed. "How did he _find_ this...?" he asked again. His eyes were full of curiosity. Swallowing gently, Jasmine pulled away. "Listen.. Rick.. tonight, I want to meet with you and talk about.. us.."

His blue eyes turned up to meet her jade depths. He smiled warmly and reached down, taking her by the hand, his opposite hand glided up to her waist, and rested upon the soft curve. "What time?" Jasmine avoided his eyes. She wanted to pull away... but she couldn't. She gripped his hand instead, her eyes lingering off in Daryl's direction. His gaze was latched onto them for a moment as she caught him watching them... then he was distracted as Maggie carried Judith over to him, placing her in his lap. Jasmine cleared her throat and looked away. There were eyes all over her... she wanted it to stop.

"Just expect me after curfew... alright?" she murmured, gazing up at him. Rick's eyes sparked as he was suddenly interest by her choice of time.

"Okay.."

* * *

The group enjoyed a hearty meal for dinner that evening, some enjoying a bit of drink. It wasn't long before the candles were being blown out and there were last-minute rounds. Jasmine was assigned to watch with Maggie so that Sasha and Michonne could finally have a nice evening of complete rest. It was no problem; they deserved it. Settled upon the bale of straw by the open window, Jasmine ran a hand up through her hair and gazed off over the moon-lit hill. The clouds had finally parted, the rain letting up, leaving the snow frozen over and giving off a glare as the silver disk above bled out over the earth. In one hand, she held the rifle, the other, she fiddled with the necklace. Shifting in her seat, she peered through the scope, scowering the hillside for any sign of strange movement. The silencer was on - thank God. She didn't want to wake the group up unless it were necessary.

The chilly air filled Jasmine's nose and caused her flesh to break out in goosebumps, the hairs raising to protect her arms beneath her coat. The sound of the attic stairs creaking marked the arrival of Jasmine's partner in crime. "I might have to leave early. Rick wants me to take Judith into my room tonight so he can actually sleep without interruption," she said, her voice low. The footsteps stilled.

"Alright," Maggie replied. _Maggie_? Her voice was noticeably low. Turning her head, she was shocked to see that it was not Rhee, but her good friend the archer. Her ears burned hot with shame. He hovered at the edge of the staircase for a moment, but then proceeded to cross the floor to take a seat next to her. Gently, he eased his away up against the wall, careful so as not to irritate his tender wound. Jasmine peered through the scope once again, and the silence ensued. Off in the distance, a raven croaked, and the ancient trees complained as the wind swayed them. After a few moments, a coyote suddenly let out a howl, calling mournfully out into the night. The sound sent a chill down her spine.

"Why haven't you been resting?" she asked gently. Daryl remained silent, he reached down and used his scarlet rag to wipe any grime off of his crossbow. It needed to be cleaned something awful, and he definitely had the time...

"That's too borin'," he mumbled, his hoarse voice cutting through her.

"I don't think it matters if you think it's _borin_ '. You're injured.. you need to take it easy. Otherwise it could open again, _for the third time_." Daryl didn't reply this time. He simply glanced over in her direction.

"I've been careful," Daryl finally remarked. "Don't worry." How was she supposed to remain calm about things? Jasmine shifted and proceeded to peer through the scope. She took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. Along the treeline, something stirred, and a walker stumbled into view. Jasmine aimed and pulled the trigger, the silencer muffling the shot. Daryl instantly turned himself so he could look out the window, picking up his own gun and latching the silencer onto the weapon. The two remained as still as stone like that, ears straining above the silence. Time passed, and soon Daryl relaxed, and thus Jasmine followed. "Well, that was interesting.." she murmured softly. Her breath billowing from her lips in silver clouds.

The archer hummed in agreement as he settled back down, his left knee propping up an extended arm. They proceeded to watch the horizon and the hours droned on. The peaceful quiet was something enjoyable. Jasmine savored it. Her eyes wandered and eventually she drew away from the rifle, and peered over at Daryl. His eyes reflected the glow tumbling in from outside, the glimmering snow and the moonlight paling his complexion. He seemed lost in thought, his gaze fluttering over the ground below. It was honestly a beautiful night, but it was bitter-cold. Jasmine shivered and nestled into her coat. The femme scanned the inky stretch above, leaning slightly out the open window. It was getting to be that time, and thus she reached down, and turned on the radio.

"Maggie, I should be heading off. Get back to me once you're ready," she said softly, holding down the button. There was a hiss from the intercom, and then a reply of confirmation. Daryl looked upon her for a moment, and then returned his attention back out to the snow. "Your boyfriend callin'?" he inquired, sneering. Jasmine reached over and gave him jab, which nearly sent him off balance. The two chuckled softly. What a jerk... She had to admit, she was a bit unsure of how open he was to the idea. After what he had attempted in the powder room earlier that afternoon, Jasmine was a wary. Was he feeling okay?

"I _promise_ , I'll go out with you tomorrow morning... okay?" she assured. Once again, she gave him a nudge with Daryl. "You big suck." His smile disappeared, his eyes remaining on the snow. He appeared dubious, but nonetheless he knew there wasn't much more that he could do. Jasmine had been spending so much time at the lodge that she was beginning to feel bad for leaving her friend on his own.

The staircase creaked and Maggie came into view, exchanging a look with Jasmine. With a smile, she rose and brushed off her behind. Daryl took her place, and settled at the scope, looking out over the horizon. Perhaps he felt a bit uncomfortable with being left with Beth's sister, but Jasmine knew that either way, he'd deal with it. The femme felt almost hesitant to leave Daryl. She honestly wanted to stay up here all night with him and talk: it had been so long since they had done something like that. Finally, after a small conversation with Maggie, she crossed the creaky boards and descended the staircase. Jasmine knew that she had a job to do, though... and she needed to get it over with.

 **Tonight.**

* * *

Now that mostly everyone was sleep, Jasmine could feel her stomach beginning to clench. It was dawning on her now, the fact that she was about to take a big step in her relationship with Rick. It wasn't as if she hadn't made love to someone before... why was she so nervous? The floor felt alien beneath her feet. It felt like ages before she came to Rick's door. The soft candle light leaked out from between the door and the carpet. Jasmine took a deep breath. It was okay... this was Rick. It wasn't as if he were a stranger. Knocking softly on the door, she heard shuffling from inside, and then the door opened. Rick was waiting for her, greeting her with a gentle smile.

"Hey," Jasmine breathed. He nodded.

"Hey... come on in." Gesturing inside, he held her in his gaze. Her fingertips were going cold. Jasmine accepted his invitation inside and the door shut behind her. The room was neat and tidy- strange for a man, but nonetheless refreshing. Her eyes settled upon the empty crib tucked up against the room. "Judith is sleepin' in Carl's room tonight, so it will just be us two..." Rick explained. She bobbed her head, her lips glued shut. It was almost as if she was afraid to open her mouth, lest something silly would happen. Perhaps her tongue would fly out.

"Why don't you sit down? Would you like a drink?" he suggested. Jasmine cleared her throat and nodded. "That would be wonderful, yes.." Turning to the leader, she took a step backwards and sat back upon the of his bed. It was squeak-proof, as if it had been made specifically for tonight. Jasmine gently allowed her fingers to explore the duvet beneath her. Rick set to pouring the alcohol into two of their more handsome glasses from downstairs. He must have managed to sneak them past Carol: the older woman loved them and always kept them at the back of the cupboard, so they couldn't be used and possibly broken.

Handing her a sparkling glass, he joined her on the mattress and they both turned to face the painting that hung over Judith's crib. There was an awkward silence before Rick finally spoke. "Thought the picture could liven up the room..." She smiled softly, arching eyebrow. Rising, she tilted her head and walked over to the painting. It was pretty hideous. "That, and I figured that you might like it." Jasmine raised her brows as she took another swallow of her drink, turning to Rick and then returning her attention to the artpiece. "It's... wow, it's um..." She couldn't find the words.

" _Ugly_?"

"I was going to say _unique_ ," Jasmine replied, turning to him with an expression of pure optimism. Rick smirked and chuckled.

"Another word for ugly," he remarked. The two laughed together for a while until they sighed, all in unison. The femme took a sip from her glass, enjoying the taste, only to cough as Rick made another joke. Had he been practicing? She had never actually sat down with Rick and gotten to know him enough. There was no time like the present, she supposed.

"Did you prepare a bunch of witty stories just for this occasion?" asked the young woman. She eyed him as she returned to where she had previously been sitting. The regal leader simply cleared his throat and glanced away, almost in guilt. Oh, had she caught him? After a moment, he answered. "I have stories for every occasion, I just choose to keep them to myself."

Jasmine rolled her eyes. Okay, alright. Best not to embarrass him. "You should tell them more often. I like them," she praised, giving him a graceful nod. The handsome leader gave her a dip of his own head. "Well, I appreciate it. Thank you, Jaz." The word on his tongue - _Jaz_. It didn't quite sound right. She gripped her glass and smiled as best she could, taking another drink. Suddenly the rum was no longer being kind to her. Jasmine cleared her throat and leaned over, setting her drink on the bed-side table. She eyed Rick for a moment, who gave her a smile. "Did you ever think we'd make it this far?" he asked.

Jasmine was unsure of what he was referring to. Rick looked away and gazed off across his bedroom. "This place was our sanctuary and now we suddenly have a maniac tied up in our basement." Ah. _That_. She let out a sigh and shook her head. It was definitely some pickle that they were in. She shrugged her shoulders, meeting his gaze. "I didn't think so, no. I thought it was all over," she replied rather solemnly. "I guess it never really stops."

There was a moment of silence as the two thought of their most recent scare. Typically situations like that would go sour. As if some sort of unseen force would only save a handful in exchange for a single life. The end resulting in nothing but blame and grief, and questions. Jasmine was beginning to feel more and more sick. She wasn't sure she could handle much more drink without being ill, and then she might have to explain her current predicament to Rick. The thought caused her a wave of anxiety to wash over her.

Her train of thought abruptly stopped as suddenly Rick had reached over, and gently touched her shoulder. He pulled her in, which she obliged to and shuffled over to lean against him. Rick held her for a few moments, his grip as tight as Daryl's had been the evening before. _No, stop thinking about_ -

Before she knew it, Rick had lifted her chin up and planted his lips upon her's. Her mind went blank, and fuzzy. It wasn't long before he had pushed her back onto the mattress, splayed out as he hovered over her. Jasmine tried her best to return the kisses, but was overwhelmed as Rick simply let go. The two were panting soon, all over each other, the excitement of the moment taking hold of her and destroying any bit of common sense she had. Jasmine felt how his stubble tickled her skin as he gently kissed her slender throat.

It was awfully hot in the room. He had removed his shirt in one quick movement, and was shimmying her out of her's, tossing it to the side and leaving her in her cotton bra. Rick's actions were nowhere near aggressive, but were nonetheless acted upon with passion. Jasmine shivered as he caressed her sides, and slipped a hand under her bra as it searched for one of her soft breasts. Soon they were both in only their undergarments, her bra having been flung to the side in a desperate attempt to kiss more of her skin. For a split second, she felt thrilling fire flare..

But then suddenly it froze... and shattered.

Upon the action of pulling her last bit of clothing off, she was instantly taken back to the cold frozen earth of the forest floor as Matthias had raped her. The images flashed before her eyes, causing her body to lock up as she was completely ripped from reality. Her hands flew up as she began to panic, which Rick didn't seem to notice at first. Tears pricked her eyes and she let out little yelps, which caused the regal leader to suddenly withdraw, looking upon her with confusion and concern in his eyes. Jasmine began to sob, covering her bare chest and her body as best she could. His gaze chewed at her skin: searing it, tainting it.

The leader, of course, quickly reached down and then tossed his shirt over her for cover. Jasmine in turn, grabbed hold of the material and scrambled up and away, sobbing into her hands. The two remained still for a few heartbeats before he reached out to her. Hesitantly, he brushed the tears away from the frightened young woman in attempt to calm her. Her body was trembling and all she wanted to do was curl up and hide. Now she wasn't just experiencing the horror of the terrible event, but she was completely embarrassed by how she had suddenly reacted.

Rick hushed her and slowly pulled her in, allowing her to cry into his chest until she was calm once more. She hiccuped, and nestled her face into the crook of his neck. Here she was, her body trembling against his, too frightened to even move. Jasmine wasn't sure what to do. Her eyes felt heavy.

Daryl had been right since the beginning: _she was fucking weak_.

* * *

 **February**

Daryl's head felt full, and his wound was unusually sore. He figured that he had slept on it wrong, and simply brushed this off. He had to power through it, no matter how hard it was. The archer knew he would get over it eventually. Opening the door to the basement, he wrinkled his nose. He really didn't want to do this, but then again, perhaps it was better just to get it out of the way. That way Jasmine wouldn't have to do it again, nor would anybody else. Everything in the house was so goddamn cold: it was even worse downstairs. As he descended the stairs, he felt a chill run down his spine. The plate in his hand felt heavy, the candle in the other no better.

Upon rounding the corner, he narrowed his eyes against the dim light. The sun wasn't up yet, and ergo, there was nothing but the warm glow of the flickering candle to help him find his way. Fallon's head slowly came up, her eyes glinting from behind the mask as she looked upon him. She must have been dozing. He had to refrain from spitting on her. Daryl knelt and placed the plate down on the cement floor. The archer then set down the candle, and began to check the chains around the pillar, as he always would whenever everyone would feed her.

The archer gave them a tug, and once he knew that she was firmly secured, he stood up with a grunt. Every movement was stiff and uncomfortable with this wound.

"I heard Jasmine's a good chef."

Daryl stopped and curled his lip. " _What_?"

"Oh don't play dumb with me..." What the fuck was she going on about? Daryl remained silent, glowering in her direction with steel-blue eyes. He never spent much of his time listening to Fallon. In fact, this was only the second occasion that he had ever heard her speak, let alone look in his direction. _Snotty bitch_.

The archer crossed over the room and snatched the candle up and placed it up on top of one of the many metal surfaces in the room. There needed to be something down here for that evening, for whoever had the job of feeding her before lights-out. With one last look at her, he noted that she was smiling ever so pleasantly. It was eerie. _Crazy skank_ , he thought. Daryl then proceeded to march to the staircase.

"Didn't you hear that she has a _special little bun in the oven_?" Daryl froze, his blood running cold. He stared off into the gloom of the dark companionway. Slowly, he turned to look upon the prisoner. She had to be joking, right? She had some nerve makin' shit up about Jaz. Daryl glowered at her.

"Are you excited to be a _father_ , Daryl?" she inquired. Her words were laced with generous amounts of venom. The archer gritted his teeth and proceeded to shoot daggers at the woman in the mask. There was no way it could be true. As Daryl remained silent, his conscious grasped for some sort of reason as to why Fallon was lying about such a touchy topic. How could he find a loop-hole? As he thought about it, it became more and more true. The vomiting, the dizziness and fatigue. Her jumpiness, her spaciness... all of it pointed toward this apparent pregnancy.. However he refused to believe it. She was just unwell, that was all.

"Jasmine..." he echoed.

"Yes..."

" _Jasmine's_ ..." Fallon waited for him to finish his sentence, but was disappointed as he couldn't bring himself to do it. "She's..." the woman encouraged. Her chin tilted down in an expression of expectation. Daryl was speechless now as he began to come to grips with what she was telling him. Rick. No, she was just unwell. She had to be pulling his fucking chain. " ** _Pre-e-e-egnant_**." The word made his stomach seize up. He wrinkled his nose. Fallon looked upon Daryl for a moment, who wasn't taking any more of it. He brushed her off and turned away, beginning to ascend the stairs. "Oh, I suppose I ruined the surprise..." she said softly. He stiffened, and paused, shutting his eyes. Lord give him strength...

As he took to the top of the stairs and pushed the doors open, he listened carefully. Jasmine was awake, judging by the gentle footfalls coming from the upper floor. Daryl began to ready his things, and then waited for her to finish up and head downstairs. She was fine, as he kept telling himself.

She was just _unwell_.

* * *

[ **Author's Note** :] **Okay, with the strange symptoms of both morning sickness, extreme fatigue, aches and pains etc, it is clear that Jasmine is in the early stages of pregnancy (or is it simply stress?). She is beginning to come to terms with this, and now is trying to keep herself healthy and on her toes..**

 **Also, it is kind of implied that Fallon might be _blind_? Strangely enough, she can somehow sense the change in hormones and the tension within her body, as any mother would have around a possibly dangerous person. Taking this information into account, she assumed it's Daryl's, which Jasmine simply ignores... (Although this somehow confirms her pregnancy¿)**

 **Big mistake. What will happen next? Keep reading to find out!**


	19. Chapter 19 - Truculency

Jasmine yawned and let out a loud groan as she stretched her arms above her head. The fresh air was nothing but the best, and it was her favorite time of day. The sun was reflecting off the snow, causing it to glimmer and sparkle like a million tiny shards of glass. The forest was silent, and still, the only interruption being the eerie croak of a crow or the sound of heavy alabaster powder falling from the treetops. Jasmine was ahead of Daryl as they picked their way through the cold layer of snow. Her toes were completely frozen, and she was shivering every once in a while... but that was part of winter.

"Come on, slow-poke! My _grandmother_ could move faster than you!" she persisted, shooting a glance over her shoulder. She stepped up onto a fallen log and tight-roped her way along the trunk. Jasmine was careful as to where she stepped, for she could slip on any loose bark and fall flat on her ass - and a sore butt wasn't something she wanted to deal with if they had to make a quick getaway.

Why was he being so goddamn slow? Jasmine came to a stop on her perch, watching as Daryl traipsed his way up along the pathway. Frowning, she slipped down from where she stood, and approaching him. "Is something wrong?" Jasmine asked. Daryl simply shot her a glance, and then continued his walk past her through the snow. His shoulders were squared and stiff, his wounded limb hanging loosely at his side, the opposite gripping onto the strap of his crossbow. She studied him closely, slowly following in suit as the archer was now in the lead. The way he swayed as he walked, how his head was tipped down as he watched his step; the shape of his back and the back of his head; the crossbow he held so dearly, his trademark vest, the heavy pleather jacket beneath.

Jasmine let out a soft sigh, the breath escaping her lips becoming silver translucent clouds upon contact with the air. Daryl Dixon: he was either withdrawn and utterly cold, or he was welcoming you in with open arms. The femme shook her head, stepping in his footprints. They were far bigger than her's. There was moment as she curiously observed her surroundings, attempting to busy herself as they traipsed through the thick layer of chilly powder. Her eyes slowly drifted back to Daryl, whom was still plodding along. How boring...

Reaching down, she scooped up a handful of snow and created a firmly-packed ball. The femme smirked wickedly as she prepared for her assault. Jasmine came to a stop and took aim, before she launched her ammunition in his direction. The snowball collided with the back of his head, and she covered her mouth, stifling laughter. The archer froze in his tracks and raised his hand to the back of his cranium. Perhaps she was just angering him? She instantly felt guilty.

"Oh, _it's on_!" he laughed. As the archer whipped around, she saw the nasty grin on his face. This earned her a squeal of terror. He swooped down, grabbing himself a large amount of snow, making a b-line in her direction. Jasmine trotted backwards, attempting to run from him, but to no avail. She was caught by her hood, and snow was stuffed down the back of her jacket. This time she couldn't suppress her cries, dancing away from the archer as she attempted to remove the quickly-melting snow. Defending herself, she took to the trees and began blindly throwing snowballs in his direction. Only one met it's mark, squarely upon his chest. The femme ducked behind the spruce she took refuge beneath as soon as her target was reached; Jasmine then began the task of planning out her next assault. First, she needed to make sure that she was in the proper condition. She was a bit dizzy, but that she could get past.

The archer was missing. Frowning, she stepped out from her refuge, and searched for Daryl. Where had he gone? There was a sudden crunch, and she turned just as a mound of snow was dumped upon her. Great, now she had snow everywhere. Jasmine shivered, and turned to the archer, launching herself forward. He easily held her back with a single hand, his injured arm out of commission. Jasmine pushed and pulled, but he remained stationary, sneering down at her. " _Give up_ ," he insisted.

Jasmine shoved him away and they ceased rough-housing, catching their breath. "I'll get you next time," she panted. She knelt and began to tie her boot, the laces having come loose from the struggle. Now they were both cold and damp. Nonetheless, she was grinning. It was great to be able to goof around with him. The two continued on their way through the drifts. Jasmine rubbed her hands together, attempting to warm her numbing fingers. Oh, it was fairly cold. Perhaps it would be a good idea to find herself a pair of gloves. Considering she was rather sensitive to the cold now, she needed to make sure she wouldn't get sick. As the two reached their intended destination, they slowed their pace. The fence surrounding the farm was rather fickle, and thus it was always a hassle to get over it. Daryl hoisted himself up over the barricade, and then landed in the snow with a grunt.

Honestly, she was beginning to lose her stamina. Simply going up the stairs was a chore lately, and she was only a month into her pregnancy. Jamming her foot into the first divot in the fence, she hoisted herself up. The fence careened, earning a jump from Daryl, who mirrored her actions from the opposite side. Jasmine raised her brows as he managed to quickly balance the fence, as well as snatch up the hood of her coat. Daryl helped lift her up to the top. As she reached the apex and was just heaving herself over the top of the rickety barricade, the fence suddenly began to tilt. Daryl pulled her against him and slipped down, gracefully landing on his feet.

His grip was tight, but soon loosened as they were both safely in place. He reached up and favored his shoulder, letting out a frustrated hiss of pain. Jasmine ignored the sudden heroic act, although she knew she could have made it over the side with no trouble. Instead she reached up and began to pull at his coat, trying to see if the wound had perhaps opened up again. Daryl turned his head, expressing great discomfort as he was touched. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine, just pulled it the wrong way," he reassured. Jasmine frowned and reached up, her hand snaking along his neck and just beneath the collar of his jacket. He brushed her hand away with a curl of his lip, although he kept hold of her delicate fingers. The archer was acting as if her touch burned his skin. This hurt a bit, but she decided to shrug it off. Maybe he was just having an off day.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, suddenly taking on a rather stern look. Jasmine peered up at him now with an expression of confusion upon her face. Why would he be asking her? He was the one that strained himself. Jasmine rolled her eyes and moved away from him, but he tugged her back.

She turned to him with a glare. "Yeah, I'm fine... _Christ_ ," she responded. Why was he being so persistent? It was annoying. Jasmine and Daryl gazed at each other for a few tense moments, before they began walking through the muddy leaves and the clumps of snow as they plodded toward the farmhouse. It was eerie quiet, the frigid breeze stirring the wind chimes, their soft song wailing softly into the open air. Unsheathing her ronin, she gripped the handle tightly. As Daryl fell into step beside her, she felt more confident as he slipped his crossbow off his shoulder and armed himself. He had better aim, and was far more coordinated than she could ever hope to be. All she could do was run away.

They strategically took to the steps of the veranda and made the short trip to the screen door. The archer gave the door a good few raps and then paused, waiting before entering. He always took the precaution, in case there was possible danger inside. With a brief nod, he tried the door. Unfortunately, it was locked, and thus the brute backed up and then booted the heavy wood in. The lock broke and he instantly raised his weapon. Jasmine turned, keeping her eyes on his left flank and the tail end. Nothing had followed them, and thus she shut the door behind them. The two spit off and silently searched the place, looking for anything useful.

As silent as a soul, she crept down the dark hallway. Although she felt as though she were exposed completely without the archer by her side, she couldn't act suspicious. Daryl would catch on quick if she weren't careful. As she climbed the stairs, the wood creaked, reminding her of her grandparents' home. It was musty and cottage-like: very rustic. The air was full of dust particles, dancing in the shafts of watery winter sunlight. She wrinkled her nose as a rat scurried by her feet, and suddenly the scent of rotting flesh. Slowly, she snuck down the hall and pushed open each door with caution. Finally, she came to the final door. The stairs creaked just as Jasmine nudged open the bedroom entrance. It swung open, and the thick aroma of death hit her like a brick.

Jasmine's stomach lurched and she whipped around, catching sight of none other than Daryl, who looked up at her in alarm as she raced for the banister. He soared up the final few stairs he had left and dashed to her side. Soon, his large hand rested upon her back and gave her a bit of reassurance as she attempted to hold down the contents within her stomach. Her face drained of it's blood, and Jasmine felt woozy, her head spinning like a top. She managed refrain from vomiting, but remained still as she came down from her daze. Daryl was softly chiding to the young woman, asking her if she were okay. Jasmine swallowed hard and rose, but stumbled back. Her ears were ringing.

"Jaz... _Jaz_ , hey.." he assuaged, managing to steady her. Jasmine turned to the archer, who cast a finger beneath her chin, tilting her face up. "You okay?" The femme felt her ears turning pink as he studied her face. Staring up at him, she nodded softly. Daryl looked upon her for a few moments later, before he returned her nod. Jasmine drew away from him and moved back toward the door, only to be stopped by a warm hand on her shoulder. The archer brushed past her and entered the bedroom.

Jasmine took a few deep breaths, and then she followed. Her eyes washed over the rotting corpse in the bed, which pawed weakly in Daryl's direction. She was most likely a beautiful girl, judging by the picture of her and her family upon her bed-side table. Clasped within her right hand was a knife, the opposite sliced at the wrist. The wound was festering, and filled with maggots. Her dead hair was a greasy scarlet, drab compared to the luster it had had in the photo. Her skin was yellowed, stretched like thin canvas upon her sharp, ghoulish frame. Daryl looked upon the roamer with both distaste... and a tad touch of sorrow.

"Probably was too stupid to put the _knife_ through her head..." Dixon muttered. Jasmine cringed as he reached over and took hold of the silver blade sheathed to his belt. He unsheathed the skinning knife, and then strode forward, plunging the metal into the roamer's skull. What little life that was held within the creature's cloudy eyes disappeared, and the body went limp. The archer reached into his back pocket and retrieved his rag, which he used to clean the matter off of the blade. He was always taking special care of it - even more than he would his crossbow, or his bolts.

Daryl then turned to Jasmine as he returned the blade to it's rightful place. He stepped toward her and reached up, gently brushing her bangs from her face. Jasmine felt her cheeks turn bright red and swallowed gently. What on earth was he trying to pull? He searched her face, and then allowed his hand to drop.

"You sure you're alright?" he asked in his usual husky voice. The concern in his eyes... a new feeling arose as she felt her chest resonate with the flames of adoration. She had never felt such a strong pull toward the archer. "I'm.. I'm sure, _yeah_.." she replied, nodding gently. Dixon's eyes proceeded to scower her features, chewing her up like wildfire. He was actually showing outward concern for her. The air was suddenly fairly warm. After a few moments, he nodded gently and turned his eyes away. The archer brushed by her, and thus she followed in suit. Jasmine felt a bit out of it now. He had actually made contact with her, twice in a span of minutes. Perhaps he was feeling rather bold today? For Daryl to make such intimate moves, there must have been something giving him confidence - something driving him. Jasmine actually reached up and spread her fingers across her brow where his fingers had brushed her skin.

"I guess you're still feelin' sick, huh?" he asked. The femme cleared her throat, eyeing a rat as it scuttled by her foot. Daryl noticed it as well, and thus she cringed. She hated it whenever he picked on helpless creatures... But to Jasmine's surprise, rather than drawing his crossbow and ending the rodent's life, he allowed it to pass. It would live to see another day. Jasmine blinked. He was acting different.

"Yeah.." she responded, although her tone was rather dubious herself.

"Do you need anythin'?" he inquired once again. Jasmine paused on the stairs, hovering in place. What on earth? He was acting very peculiar. "I can see if I can find some ginger, if you'd like.. though I'm not sure if any'll be around." Although she was suspicious of the archer, she did think about the benefits. Perhaps he was just worried for her health..?

"Where would you find it?" she inquired as they reached the bottom of the stairs. "I mean... it's snowing up here." Jasmine had faith in Daryl, but what he was suggesting could be close to impossible. _Unless_... "There might be some down at the base of the mountain," Daryl offered. Her lashes fluttered. His idea was completely absurd.

" _Just you_?"

"Yeah.."

"You want to go on a three to four-day trip, alone... just for me?" Jasmine stopped in place and looked over at Daryl. He turned and looked over his shoulder for a moment, before he pivoted and approached her. He swung his bag off his shoulder and opened it with grace. Rummaging inside, the archer's hand slipped from the bag holding a bottle of pills. With a flick of his wrist, the bottle soared through the air and although surprised by the sudden action, she fumbled but then successfully caught it. Reading the label, she narrowed her eyes. She wasn't so sure about these pills... what if they hurt the baby?

Turning the container in order to read the list of ingredients and the safety rules, the Jasmine proceeded out the door without another word. _"If pregnant or breast-feeding, please consult a health professional before use..."_ Great. The only bit of information that it gave on pregnancy was completely useless to her. It was worth a try for now.. Jasmine stuffed the medication in her bag and carefully plodded out into the snow. Daryl had stopped a ways off and was waiting for her to catch up. It hit her. She was completely lost. Jasmine was currently experiencing the first ever pregnancy she was ever going to have in her entire life, and she realized that she was completely unprepared.

* * *

 **Mid-February**

Daryl let his arrow fly, but unfortunately missed it's target, whizzing inches above the tattered tangle of scruff that belonged to the severed skull of a walker. It still growled and griped, working its jaw in hunger, gnashing at nothing. Its milky eyes rolled in its head, blind and disoriented. Jasmine watched from a safe distance, a mug of hot soup in her hands and Daryl's heavy coat around her shoulders. Instead of going out to check the traps, this morning Daryl had once again decided to stay behind. The brute had been hanging around lately, reconciling with the circumstances. Since Jasmine wasn't allowed to leave the cabin, and she wanted to spend time with the archer, he would do something around the property with her; whether it be laundry or cooking, or chopping wood, they'd do it together. Her morning sickness had gotten worse, and wasn't letting up - she was visibly beginning to slim down, and she was always cold, and feeling weak.

Mister Dixon always seemed to be hovering over her shoulder, always next to her, ready to catch her if she fell... at least, whenever Rick wasn't with her. It seemed to be that the archer was avoiding the leader. Ever since the awkward evening when he had caught her leaving Rick's room wearing nothing but the gentleman's shirt, Daryl had had such a sour reaction to even the mention of his name. Jasmine knew that she had to be discreet from now on.. seeing that it bothered Daryl. For now, she didn't want to approach him about his behavior. It wasn't time to discuss that, at least not yet. Not until she was well enough. Huddling into his coat, she shivered, and sipped her hot broth.

Daryl had recently discovered himself an actual bow, and had obviously taken interest in learning how to use it. It was just different for him, it seemed, and with his bad shoulder acting up quite often, he was having trouble. Jasmine wished she could help the poor man, but she could hardly walk lately without feeling dizzy. Strenuous work was something she couldn't do. She understood her limits, and unfortunately, so did Daryl... and that's why he was always doing things for her. Rick was always occupied by simply keeping track of everything that the only time they really ever spent together was at dinner, and the occasional late evening. The leader was always so wrapped up in making sure everyone was okay and that everyone had their tasks completed, that Jasmine was beginning to feel as though she would never really get a chance to tell Rick that he was " _going to be a father_ ".

That was correct... she had finally just swallowed her fear and gotten it over with. Jasmine had never felt so close to Rick. It had been enjoyable, but afterward... she had had mixed feelings. She wanted Rick, she knew that now.. but something was just nagging at her; it wasn't just the ominous dark cloud hanging over her head that was Hatchback Grove, and that disgusting man. It was her love for _Daryl_. She was watching it grow from what felt like a creeping little inch-worm, to a beautiful blossoming Indian Paintbrush; burning before her very eyes. It grew brighter every day.. and although it was radiant, she was afraid to touch it in fear that it might cause her whole world to ignite. The fire could either burn her to ash, or ravish her heart and soul with the same scarlet and gold as its bountiful, flourishing crown.

Jasmine frowned as Daryl missed his target again. Instead of going and fetching the arrow, he raced up the hill and knocked the severed cranium off its post. It tumbled down the snow-littered plateau, the archer watching it as it disappeared from view. For a moment, he remained where he stood, his body still. Soon enough, he shook his head and began to traipse down the hillside. He found the head somewhere in the snow, and before he could end the lifeless-creature's life, Jasmine looked away. She held her breath as she listened to the hisses and gurgles cease as what little that kept the creature going was extinguished, and then exhaled.

She couldn't stand it. Soon, Daryl's footfalls approached her, the sound of snow crunching beneath his feet giving it away. The archer looked upon her with vague concern. "You good?" he asked, his voice still gravelly as always. His flannel was folded up to the middle of his forearms, shirt untucked, his vest hanging loosely, and his hair a wispy storm of brunette from the wind. She smiled. Jasmine must have looked green to the archer. He crouched and cast his hand beneath her chin, tilting her face up.

"Yeah, just nauseous," she murmured softly. Daryl sighed and rose, only to turn and plop himself down next to her upon the wooden planks of the veranda. The bow around his shoulder clattered to the ground, and he pulled her against him, his right arm draping over her delicate frame. He was so warm... in fact, it almost felt as if he were on fire. Nonetheless, she kept her mouth shut. Was he getting sick?

"Hey you two," Rick's voice coiled out from doorway. "Dinner's being served. Best get inside before it's dark." Daryl clearly was uncomfortable now, and released her almost as if by instinct. The archer rose, and helped her to her feet. Although he was distancing himself from her now, one of his large, warm hands remained upon her lower back as they crossed to the front doors. It was reassuring, although she knew it wouldn't last long. Rick smiled warmly upon the sight of her, and almost as if handing her off to him, Daryl removed his warm palm from her spine. She felt exposed suddenly. Rick met the archer's gaze and gave him a smile as well, but was completely rejected as he brushed by the two and slipped into the lodge.

Jasmine took a deep breath and smiled weakly up at Rick. "I see that you're eating a little," he remarked as he helped her take Daryl's coat off. A small part of Jasmine wanted to rip the jacket from his grip and slip herself back into the pleather confines, but instead she brushed past Rick and slowly walked to the couch. She was now nearly two months pregnant, and it wasn't getting any easier for her. Jasmine eased herself down, and was soon joined by Rick, who made small talk with her about her day. Meanwhile, Jasmine knew Daryl was off feeding Fallon, his new bow rested against the wall. The archer had put his crossbow away for now, given that there was a jam in it that he couldn't figure out how to fix. He had been working on it for days on end, and it was beginning to really frustrate him. Jasmine had only seen him without his crossbow on the rare occasion. With his crossbow absent, he seemed... almost stripped of his pride.

The stew was handed out, a bowl left in the empty chair for Daryl as everyone waited for him. It was common courtesy, and besides, Jasmine was in no hurry. She honestly felt a bit uneasy. She just hoped that she would be able to eat. Eventually the door to the basement shut with a heavy slam, enough force to startle most people out of conversation. The brute was clearly pissed off, and it was clear to see that things hadn't gone well downstairs. Jasmine eyed him for a moment, furrowing her brows, before she looked away. His eyes were two pools of stormy skies, and she did not like the turmoil in those clouds. Not one bit.

Moving on, the group began to eat, and despite how unsure of herself she was, Jasmine eventually began to gain an appetite. Carol smiled at her when she asked for a second bowl, knowing fully well that she wasn't just sick. The older woman had approached her one morning after she had been violently ill for the fourth time that week. She had helped clean her up, and then spoke to her about her period on the period calendar. Jasmine felt like she had been caught by her mother, stealing one of her best rings so she could sell it. That was it - her goose was cooked. What was she supposed to tell her? The mother-to-be, of course, confessed that she had been waiting for the right time to tell the group, and didn't want anyone to know; not just yet. What she hadn't told Carol, was that it didn't belong to Rick...

After the posse finished their meals, dishes were collected and as the day seemed to be coming to a close, it seemed to be time to share a bit of a drink and a few stories.. Her green eyes settled upon Rick, who sat proudly beside her. His leg crossed over the other casually, and he carefully slipped his arm up over the couch behind Jasmine's head. Jasmine decided to shuffle closer, feeling the familiar warmth resonating off him. It was comfortable, where she was settled. She was content for once, the discomfort of her empty and fairly angry stomach now gone. Rick's soft scent was comforting as the two remained so close. Maybe she could just focus on Rick Grimes, and everything would just go away.

"I was eight... Our youngest brother would normally go out and do the eggs every morning. I would milk the cows, and my older brother, Brett- _God rest his soul_ \- would go work in the fields with my dad. Well, since I didn't know the first thing about chickens, I guess my dad asked for Brett to help me," the leader began. The fire crackled in the silence. "We weren't on good terms. I left a tack in his bed and he had a bandage on his ass. It was hilarious..." Jasmine smiled softly, adoration filling her to the brim. He was so charming. "Anyway, so we go out to the coop and my brother tells me what to do. _'You have to run in there, get 'em bastards by the legs,'_ he told me. _'Pull the eggs out quick 'n' get out quick. Got it?'_ I remember it to this day."

Whilst the story proceeded, she felt Rick's hand slip and rest upon her body, his thumb gently caressing the side of her neck as his fingers draped down over her slender shoulder. As she looked upon the fire, she took a deep breath, feeling herself slowly relaxing more and more. Jasmine eventually turned her head to look upon Rick. "So we go in there, and I've got the basket and I'm armed to the teeth with a pot on my head. Of course he's acting completely serious, so I thought he wasn't shitting me. I opened the door, and I began to shake like a leaf. If they were as dangerous as he said they were, why wasn't he doing it? He was strong, and clearly knew more about doing it," Rick continued.

"I grabbed the first one I could, and before I knew it, feathers were flying. The hen started to scream and I began to scream, and soon the rooster was on me. I ran out of there so fuckin' fast, I swear there was a trail of fuckin' flames following after me!" The group began to chuckle and snicker. "And by time I'm around the side of the house, _pissin_ ' my pants, I can hear Brett just screaming and hollerin' in laughter." A chorus of laughter broke out at the end of his story, the images of little Rick dancing with a panicking chicken in his hands causing everyone to bust a gut. Jasmine's eyes were watering from the exertion of the guffaw. As she sighed and came down from her good chortle, she turned her head, looking over the group as they teased Rick, or laughed among themselves. All was warm and healthy, and beautiful... all except for the nasty glare she was receiving from Daryl Dixon. His eyes were focused on the two, eyeing the hand upon her shoulder. What was the matter?

And that's when she remembered...

The marks that Rick had left upon her neck from their hot night in the sheets. The leader was trying to cover them nonchalantly - or was he trying to draw attention to them? Daryl seemed to notice her gaze and held her green pools for a few moments. His expression was cold and bitter, his jaw setting as it tended to do when he was in a foul mood. Slowly, he raised his glass to his lips and took a deep swallow of his strong liquor, turning his eyes away from Jasmine. Jasmine turned her gaze away as another story began, this time from Glenn. By time he was done, she had almost forgotten about Daryl's nasty little scowl. The group was laughing again, and amidst the fray of noise, Rick and Jasmine simpered in each other's direction. Jasmine was soon pulled into a kiss on the forehead, causing her to blush. In a sense, she almost felt as if he were gloating to the rest. He showered her with affection then as he drew away and whispering in her ear ever so sweetly. Jasmine giggled, going along with it, feeling just as proud. The sudden confidence made her feel good - Daryl could be as bitter as he wanted.

Rick then straightened up and the two looked upon the little lover's story coming from Glenn and Maggie. Laughter once again, started up in one beautiful, harmonized chorus. Jasmine felt a bit of emotion wash over her. How wonderful! She loved these people. They truly were the family she had always wanted.

"Hey, Rick.." Daryl piped up suddenly. His voice was both casual and yet almost... challenging, in a way. The room fell silent as everyone's attention fell upon the archer. " _Congrats by the way_..." The leader gave him a puzzled look. Jasmine was confused as well, but not for long. Her heart leaped into her throat and she felt her face pale completely. _**Oh no**_..

With a hesitant smile, his brows furrowed. Rick tilted his head slightly. "What?" he inquired. _Oh no.. Oh no, oh no, oh no..._ Jasmine cleared her throat.

"You don't know?"

" _Daryl_.." Carol suddenly warned. The archer turned his head.

" _ **What**_?" he spat. "I thought a proud papa migh' know 'bout his precious lil' bun on the way." His brows furrowed in false confusion, but a smile remained on his lips. Oh god, that wicked Cheshire grin. "I thought y'all knew..." His eyes washed over the bewildered group around her. Jasmine instantly looked upon Carol, who looked at Daryl, completely mortified by his behavior. The archer leaned forward, his elbows resting upon his knees. "Looks like I spoiled th' surprise.." He looked down as he picked at his fingernail carelessly. " _Mah bad_."

There was an overwhelming silence and Jasmine felt the urge to get up and run. Carol met her gaze and shook her head softly. There was no other way that Daryl could have found out. There was absolutely... no other way. Unless.. Jasmine recalled how he had recently been feeding Fallon a lot lately, and returning in a rather vile mood. That pig-headed, no-good rotten bastard.. that snake; just like that Fallon. She had him in her claws. "Daryl, how fucking dare you?" Jasmine hissed. She stood up, and the whole group shifted. The archer rose to his feet as well, and a chair was knocked over as he pushed past it.

Carol rose to her feet to protect Jasmine, and Rick followed in suit, standing just behind her. The older woman touched the archer's arm, and he stilled. Her efforts were squandered; he had reached his destination, his face inches from her's. " _What_? Suddenly y'all are fine with keepin' secrets?!" he growled. Jasmine didn't have any fight right now- she was being embarrassed, right in front of everybody. What was she supposed to say?

" ** _Daryl_** ," Carol warned, her tone firm and demanding.

"Well, c'mon - tell everyone, tell y'r _husband_!" His harsh tone caused her to flinch, taking a step back, directly into the gentleman that stood abaft to Jasmine. Her fragile frame was practically engulfed as the leader towered over her. Her throat locked up and tears began to prick at her eyes. His breath smelled like rum; had he been drinking? "Daryl, stop.." she begged, croaking. Rick's hand found its way to her arm. A harsh crow of laughter escaped the archer and he stepped back.

"Goddamn fuckin' _prick_. Y'r on my case for keepin' things from you guys, but as soon as you've a secret, it's all fine n' dandy to keep it!" Daryl threw his hand forward as he gestured to Jasmine, tossing it straight into the air and then allowing it to violently fall limp at his side. Jasmine squeezed her eyes shut as tears began to leak from between her lashes, and she turned her head away. She was completely ashamed. _Oh god_ , everyone was _staring_ at her. Carol yanked at Daryl, who ripped away from her fiercely. His voice was so loud. Judith was beginning to fuss.

Silence filled the room. Carl stood up and handed Judith to Abraham, who took her with his eyes fixated upon the situation. Everyone was speechless. "You... _you're actually_...?" the boy hesitantly asked. Jasmine turned to Rick and buried her face in his chest, beginning to sob softly. The leader wrapped his arms around her immediately. There was a moment of silence as everyone stood there, silent.

"I guess our little _hush-hush_ has been discovered, sweetheart," Rick remarked. Jasmine, surprised, looked up at the man. He looked down at her with a sad, soft little smile. Oh, how she loved this man... he was defending her, admitting to something he hadn't even known about. Kissing her upon the head, Jasmine turned around and faced Carl, opening her mouth to say something.

"Oh... my ... _Go-o-o-od_!" squealed Maggie. The whole group stood up and began to clap, accepting the situation suddenly with open arms. Jasmine looked around the room as the girls began to surround her, come touching her belly, some wiping away her tears. She smiled, clearing her throat. "It may not have been the reveal I had expected, but..." Jasmine began. She hugged Maggie. "Yes, I'm pregnant..."

Rick, who was receiving handshakes and praise from all the gentleman, soon made his way through the group to Jasmine's side and took her hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze, and then raised it to his lips. Carl joined the two, still a bit bewildered. "So... I'm going to have another baby brother or sister?" he asked, almost afraid of the answer. Jasmine smiled and looked upon him. With a nod, she reached forward and brushed the hair from his eyes.

"We had it all planned out..." Rick explained, gently touching her belly. The two lovers looked upon each other with eyes full of admiration. "I know we're safe and happy here, so... I thought I would start by saying that this is where I want to raise my third child." Rick looked into her eyes for a moment longer, before he leaned in. The two shared a warm, strong, and most delightful kiss of triumph. The lovers pulled away, and then the group let out a soft awe of appreciation.

As the praise and the excitement died down, Jasmine noticed that Carol and Daryl had disappeared, now somewhere down the hall from the foyer. She could hear their voices raised as they bickered back and forth about what had just happened. Everyone eyed the back hall to the storage room, but they soon ignored it. Jasmine's belly churned. The door suddenly flew open and Daryl stalked out into the open. He didn't waste any time as he headed straight for the couch that Rick was now settled upon next to Jasmine.

The archer's hands clamped down on Rick's shoulders. "Hey, least y'know it's yours this time, eh buddy?" he whispered hoarsely. With his tongue poking his cheek in a rather unimpressed manner, Rick turned his head to look up and over at Daryl. The archer rose and clapped his hands, wheeling around on his heels. He made for the stairs. "G'night _fuckers_!" Daryl caterwauled. The group yelled goodnight back, although halfheartedly. Nobody was exactly sure as to what the hell had come over him.

 _ **Daryl fucking Dixon**_... her hand gently rested upon her belly.

* * *

"Why didn't you tell me?" Rick murmured. He looked up at Jasmine from the bed as she was pulling her nightdress over her head. It was sleek and soft, the color a gentle pale green. Maggie said it complimented her eyes, and she agreed... it looked pretty flattering. Jasmine let out a soft sigh.

"I was waiting for the right time.." she replied, crossing over to the bed and climbing up next to the regal leader. Pulling the blankets up, she laid down upon the pillow next to him. He allowed his gaze to explore her face, reaching out and gently caressing her cheek. "I love you," Rick suddenly said. Jasmine felt her face pale. What was she supposed to say to that?

" _I love you too_.." she replied. The words left a bitter taste in her mouth, and thus Jasmine turned her head away. There was a moment of heavy silence- he could tell that she wasn't as enthusiastic as he was. After a while, Rick rolled over and snuffed out the candle. The room plunged into darkness, and she stared up at the ceiling. She laid awake for hours, having to cover her mouth as she felt her throat lock up and tears burn her eyes.

Jasmine cried until her face was on fire and she could no longer breathe..

* * *

[ **Author's Note** :] **Salty Daryl is salty. Salty Daryl is also an asshole when drunk. Tension is riding super high now. That is all I have to say about this chapter!**

 **Keep reading, you're almost at the end!**


	20. Chapter 20 - Ignite

The door slammed open against the wall of the bathroom. Daryl only managed to make it to the sink before he retched, the contents of his stomach staining the white porcelain. His entire body heaved, muscles cramping tight. Once the archer was finished being ill, he collapsed against the vanity, his knees colliding with the hard tile beneath. Daryl's calloused hands gripped the rim of the sink, his forehead leaning against the cold ceramic basin. His entire body shivered, his sides rising and falling as he took deep and ragged gasps for air. His throat burned from the acid, the bile-like aroma still in his mouth. Daryl felt as if he had just been hit by a truck. His head was splitting, his stomach rolling around as if he were at sea, and every muscle in his body ached.

After a moment to recompose himself as best he could, the archer pulled himself up. The wound upon his shoulder screamed for him to cease any sort of movement, but he had to ignore it. It was just a little infection. The archer looked down at the ugly details now littering the sink, and wrinkled his nose. The deer was kind going down, but nasty on the way up. Daryl turned the tap on and watched the vomit run down the drain. He allowed the chilly liquid to fill up in his trembling hands, splashed his face in an attempt to refresh himself and then finally took a few swallows in order to remove the taste from his mouth.

With a heavy sigh, the archer leaned against the washbasin and shut his eyes, almost afraid to look at himself. Finally, he did so. His complexion was sickly pale, his eyes dull and his hair a ruffled mess. A sheen of sweat covered him, dampening in a rather large patch upon his chest and the underarms of his t-shirt. He should have mentioned something to Carol when he had had the chance, but with the incident a few evenings before (when Daryl was _admittedly_ intoxicated), he was trying to keep a low profile.

It was early morning, and no one was awake. Daylight was just beginning to creep in as the sun rose up from behind the clouds. Outside, the wind howled, the sound harsh to Daryl's sensitive ears. Even the faint hiss of the running tap chewed at his neurons. The archer lowered his head once again and paused before suddenly shutting the faucet off with a quick snap of his wrist. The room was cold and hollow, his body swaying as he attempted to keep himself conscious. Man, his head was splitting. Daryl gritted his teeth and reached up to the cabinet, tugging it open and allowing it to swing back on it's hinges. He began to investigate the shelves, searching for some sort of medication to calm the storm within his brain. As he proceeded to rummage around, he heard the floorboards creak as someone entered the bathroom from the hall.

Oh, _fantastic_. Carol had probably heard him being sick. He knew what he would turn around to.. Wrapped in her housecoat and dressed in her pajamas, a look of concern upon her face; her features dusted and touched with remnants of sleep that she had so rudely been ripped from. "I'm fine," Daryl grumbled, straightening his shoulders. "Go back to bed."

The feeling of Carol's eyes bearing into his back caused a great deal of irritation. "I said I'm _fine_!" Daryl slammed the cabinet shut and looked into the mirror, his slate-blue eyes cutting into the reflection of the woman behind him. What he saw behind him was most definitely not Carol.

Soft pale skin, long locks of silky flaxen hair... She peered over with large powder-blue eyes, the same eyes she had had the day he had lost her. His expression dropped all evidence of previous irritation, and was replaced by a dumbfounded look of shock. His heart skipped a beat. Daryl turned his head at a breakneck speed, almost afraid that he might miss her and she might disappear before he could lay eyes upon her.. But he was wrong. She remained where she stood, almost glowing before him. The archer slowly approached Beth, albeit cautiously, wary as he looked upon her smiling face. It took him a bit of courage to reach forward, but finally he managed. His hand extended but he flinch as she shifted forward, startled by the sudden movement. It was as if she were eager. Daryl remained apprehensive for a moment, before he finally took a deep breath and strode forward. Slowly, though, he watched her smile disappear, and just as his fingers graced her buttery-soft skin, Beth turned away from him with tears in her eyes.

Everything was instantly replayed within his mind in slow motion; the blast of the gun, the sickeningly _beautiful_ blossom of crimson and brain matter, the debris and shrapnel erupting from her cranium; her head snapping back, and her eyes rolling; her legs collapsing as she fell to the ground, lifeless. Daryl opened his lips and called her name, but no sound escaped his mouth. He stumbled forward and caught himself on the door frame.

White noise fizzed within his eardrums, and he gritted his teeth as he watched the images within his conscious suddenly play backwards, the plume of encephalon and gore suddenly returning to her head, the fragments of her skull fitting back together like puzzle pieces.

"Beth..." he breathed. He began to pant, his lungs scrambling to keep up with his hammering heart and his reeling mind. At first, it was a gentle simmering in his blood. Then, it grew, like a fire quickly devouring every single piece of dry grass, until it was a massive brush fire- an inferno of emotion. "Beth!" Before Daryl knew it, he was stumbling down the hallway after Beth Greene, screaming her name out into the silence of the sleeping lodge. " _Beth_ , wait!"

* * *

Jasmine bolted upright, the linen sheets pooling around her slender hips, her fingers curling around the edge of the blankets. The sound of her companions awakening all at once bled through the walls as people called out to one-another, their voices raised in a confused and frightened sort of manner. What on earth was going on? Daryl's footfalls were heavy and prominent as he sprinted down the hall, calling out the name of one long gone. Rick's hand rested upon her forearm, which startled her further. Her attention turned toward her partner for a moment. The two exchanged a look of worry.

Abraham's rather quiet inquiry in the next room was the first to break the silence. "What the hell is goin' on?"

"Dad? _Dad_?!" Carl was calling for his father above the growing racket of the frazzled household, while Judith's cries grew louder. "Why is Daryl _yelling_?!"

"Daryl, sweetie?!" hollered Carol.

"Oh my god!" Maggie gasped from somewhere in the building.

The sound of others emerging from their rooms and following Daryl became apparent. Downstairs, the door was flung open, the howling wind outside whistling in through the egress, moaning like an injured animal. Jasmine threw herself out of bed and tossed on her nightgown, before she darted out into the hall. Rick pursued her, hot on her heels. "Wait, _Jasmine_ -"

Jasmine ignored the regal leader and darted down the hall, quickly taking the stairs. She cleared the open foyer and burst out the door. Just as her feet were leaving the surface of the front veranda, she was suddenly caught from behind, two powerful arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her up against the strong body of a man. Rick had managed to grab hold of her. "I can't have you racin' out into the snow like that. It's too dangerous!" he explained hastily. "If he's in a state where he's delusional, he could-"

" _Let me go_ , please Rick!" she begged. She struggled, letting out little grunts and sobs as she began to lose her own composure.

"Jasmine, listen-"

"Please, I have to go to him! He _needs_ me!" Tears welled within her eyes, turning her surroundings into one big, snowy, dimly-lit realm. After fighting for a good few minutes, she finally stilled, watching the scene unfold in front of her.

Abraham had managed to grab hold of the delirious man, Glenn not far behind, aiding him in restraining Daryl. Maggie and Carol had stopped in the snow, holding each other as the chaos ensued before them. "Daryl!" Carol cried. Daryl practically clawed at the men holding him back, letting out a bark as Glenn buried his fingers into his messy dark hair and yanked back. Jasmine flinched at the sound, and began to fight against Rick once more. The archer began to lose his nerve.

"Please, let me go! Pl- _please_ _Rick_!" she begged.

"I can't, I-"

"D-Daryl! **_Daryl_**!" her voice rose. It cut through the brisk wind, and drifted to the archer. The moment his name had graced her lips and taken flight through the air, something suddenly snapped. It all happened so fast that Jasmine could have sworn it had given everybody whiplash. Daryl elbowed Glenn in the chest, knocking the wind out of him with some sort of new-found strength, and wheeled around on Abraham. The archer swiped the brute's 9mm Beretta Silver from its holster, and twisted his body, aiming straight for Rick and Jasmine. "DUCK!" screamed Glenn. Raising the gun, he pulled the trigger. The violent bellow of the Silver exploded overhead, as if thunder had somehow manifested itself out of a snow squall. The entire world turned upside-down, as if the poles had shifted and the earth's very crust had split.

Rick dove for the ground, Jasmine being crushed beneath him as he protected her from the gunfire. The bullet had just missed his head: any closer and it would have scalped him. Squirming beneath his heavy bulk, she forced her head up and gawked over at Daryl. Slowly but surely, everybody followed suit, looking upon him as the barrel smoked and smoldered.

And then suddenly it all came crashing down as Abraham bought the butt of his knife down upon the back of his head.

 _Jasmine screamed_ -

* * *

[ **Author's Note:** ] **And so, this concludes the end of part one. Part two is beginning shortly! Characters will be eradicated and lost, some will continue on... If you enjoyed this story, don't forget to critique or favorite/follow to keep up to date with part two!**

 **Thank you for reading, it means the world to me... And I'll hopefully see you in the second part of Still No Sign Of Spring!**


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